(Image Credit: Wikipedia Commons)
“Relax”, seemed to say the bank of milky white clouds, “we are programmed to receive. You can check out any time you like, But you can never leave!” What was Venky trying to leave? Fate? Portend? Love? Life itself? Or was he arriving at some beckoning destination? The brilliant foliage of orange bursting forth from either side of the highway wickedly whispered in his alert ears, “Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes bends She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends.” So that was it. Jealousy. Jealousy that was pure and child-like.
An overnight drizzle had left its slippery mark on the road. It was becoming difficult for the driver to obtain the requisite grip on the surface. To add to the discomfiture, even though it was only late noon, the poor visibility made driving with headlights an absolute necessity. His mind, if not priorities were as slippery, if not more, than the curving road which the vehicle was struggling to maneuver. Leaping from agony to ecstasy, swinging between euphoria and lament, he was a roiling cauldron of raw emotions. He never saw the mammoth SUV come careening in on the blind turn. Unfortunately for Venky, neither did the driver blinded by a ferocious burst of high beam. As the car ripped away the railings and cartwheeled like a ragged doll over the precipice, he remembered Ash’s favourite line before his eyes closed, “we are all just prisoners here, of our own device.”
(Word Count: 250)
#TellTaleThursday with Anshu & Priya
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