She liked the pigeon. It was shivering, just like her, wet from the droplets that kept dripping off the sun-shade and plopping atop the two of them. The window- ledge was slippery with moss, half-heartedly littered with plastic and a few chips of glass. The pigeon took flight. She need to do that too: blot herself out. The air conditioner box was getting in her way. Life was getting in her way and she fluttered down to stillness.

About rashmenon

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This entry was posted in emotions, moods, short short story, snip-snippet, time and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Aflutter

  1. Neetika says:

    ohh.. thats a touching one!

  2. rashmenon says:

    @andy: thank you 🙂

  3. rashmenon says:

    @Dr. Jenner: thank you 🙂

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