Wednesday, August 13, 2008

i stumble like a clown

She sneaks in, like a mouse in its hole.
Slipping into something comfortable, its like a slow-motion scene from an epic movie. The lights are dim, almost non-existent, film-grained. The dust on the wooden floor quivers as she tiptoes around. This was the best part of the night, hands down, no questions asked. Coming to the smell and sights and sounds of what was hers, what was home. Her jewelery tinkled as if it was giggling while she put it in its respective box. She could smell wet socks, her pretty button nose wrinkled in disapproval, but tomorrow would be a nice banana-pancake day. She'd fish em out soon enough. It was so quiet that the ticking clock gave her a headache. She smiled sleepily at the friendly occupant of her over-sized bed. The mattress springs whined as she climbed in and scooted over to adjust herself around him. He was snoring, like any young man snores when they know they're sleeping well. 'Till death do us part,' she whispered into his dream, wrapped her leg around his waist and hugged him till she herself was snatched away into fantasy land.


Ali said...

:) nice work.

just so you know, i read your blog almost every day.

im so vaila.

unowho said...


*poke* Utho. 4 Ghantay hogaye hain mujhe jaagay huay. Hil bhi nahin sakta, aisay lipat jaati hai raat ko.


Zh. said...


Anonymous said...

these bedroom fantasies, this atmosphere of drowsiness - you've run a good theme into a rut.
try kitchens instead.

Saturnalia's Offspring said...

a clown, indeed.
this post seems like a part of everyone's feelings, tucked away somewhere.