She was back in time to serve his dinner.
Readily she cleared the table, her back turned as he turned the page of his unread novel.
They appeared like figures in a picture - transfixed by light and shade, flamed like moths in the frame of no movement.
She shivered, feeling his gaze singe the silk off her blouse; his attention now drawn to the red tulips she had brought home from her evening out.
Elegant and mute, like a swan.
Through the window the sunset bruised into night and his thoughts grew dark.
He was ready to shatter the silence.
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💥 𝓢nap-𝓢horts 💥
Short Story👨🏾💻"Ashwin's enquiries into the geological anomalies of the sites have not endeared him to the multi-national higher-ups, who are more interested in milking the land for valuable minerals to line their own pockets."🇮🇳 🌏His world will never be...
