Subtle Reminders

He had the habit of leaving me small notes and I used to love them. A familiar handwriting, the smell of scented paper, words of warmth and his voice through that.

The comfort that the heart yearned for, while my fingers ran through the half empty bed and beneath the pillow covers to reach the note.

Only this time, it was different.

The words conveyed what my ears refused to hear. The paper smelt like another woman and shimmered with shades of her mascara.

Will be late”, it read.

I heard his voice and her smile.

I wished that the habit had left with him.

3 comments:

Murali Rajendran 9:25 AM  

isn't this an offshoot from the recent post on a dance form?!
reflects the same thoughts...in a way
nice pic...there!

Nivedhitha 11:48 AM  

yeah, kinda. similar stuff. :)

Gopikrishnan J 12:06 PM  

Good one...

You are thinking from your heart :-)

"When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence" - Ansel Adams

In this space you will find images and words. It is upto you to weave 'em together and see what I see.