She sat at the table, playing with the earring.
The peacock earring.
She didn't have the other one. He had it. And she didn't have the courage to ask him for it.
She traced the blueness of the earring.
It astonished her, how one single ornament could make her relive an entire past.
She touched her bangles lightly. She remembered how perplexed he would be at her matching patterns.
Two on one wrist, three on the other.
She missed how he would play with the earrings. And the smile he had, when he did so.
She had only worn the earrings twice. The first time she met him, and the last time she saw him. In the chaos and shock of that day, she had run and dropped it.
She was sure he wouldn't have kept it. One earring-why would he? They meant nothing to him, now.
Her eyes burned, as she remembered how fascinated he had been when he had seen them the first time. That was what had drawn him to her, he said later.
She sighed.
She almost flung the earring away, along with her bangles. Her bangles seemed to have lost colour, since he was no longer there to comment on them.
But she couldn't throw this earring away. In a strange way, it was what kept her connected to him.
She touched the earring again. She smiled with burning eyes, as she thought of how he used to laugh at her mismatching earrings. She had been so embarrassed.
Yet he had whispered into her ear,
"Laugh and say it's a trend."
This was all she had now.
He probably had forgotten all about it.
With searing eyes, she puts the earring away with the rest of her past.
Somewhere, not too far away, he looks at the earring he has, too. He prays that someone's replaced this pair.
With stinging eyes, he smiles as well.
He'll keep this one.
The peacock earring.
She didn't have the other one. He had it. And she didn't have the courage to ask him for it.
She traced the blueness of the earring.
It astonished her, how one single ornament could make her relive an entire past.
She touched her bangles lightly. She remembered how perplexed he would be at her matching patterns.
Two on one wrist, three on the other.
She missed how he would play with the earrings. And the smile he had, when he did so.
She had only worn the earrings twice. The first time she met him, and the last time she saw him. In the chaos and shock of that day, she had run and dropped it.
She was sure he wouldn't have kept it. One earring-why would he? They meant nothing to him, now.
Her eyes burned, as she remembered how fascinated he had been when he had seen them the first time. That was what had drawn him to her, he said later.
She sighed.
She almost flung the earring away, along with her bangles. Her bangles seemed to have lost colour, since he was no longer there to comment on them.
But she couldn't throw this earring away. In a strange way, it was what kept her connected to him.
She touched the earring again. She smiled with burning eyes, as she thought of how he used to laugh at her mismatching earrings. She had been so embarrassed.
Yet he had whispered into her ear,
"Laugh and say it's a trend."
This was all she had now.
He probably had forgotten all about it.
With searing eyes, she puts the earring away with the rest of her past.
Somewhere, not too far away, he looks at the earring he has, too. He prays that someone's replaced this pair.
With stinging eyes, he smiles as well.
He'll keep this one.
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