(Photo Credit: Crispina Kemp)
From the refuge of the ramshackle and decrepit cabin reluctantly abutting the pier, Venky zipped up his windcheater. The air was strangely and savagely cold, making his exposed skin erupt into horripilation. A solitary motor boat chugged along the azure blue expanse of water. The revving engine shattered the calm of the morning. A strong smell of kerosene wafted in towards the cabin as the boat passed by.
Forcing his gaze away from the water, Venky turned back, locked the cabin slowly making his way towards the waiting Taxi. “The problem with expectation is the expectation itself.” Ash had philosophically mused once drying her luxuriant hair after an invigorating swim. He loved to see her after her exercising bouts. She was at her eloquent best. She would break into an introspective monologue on a range of subjects.
She was right. Expectation was a problem. But his only expectation was her!
(Word Count: 150)
Written as part of the Crimson’s Creative Challenge #39 More details regarding this challenge may be found HERE.