It was past noon , she could see the sun gradually melting into a crimson pall in the far west. she was standing there, on the veranda, relishing the moment..soft winter breeze sent shivers across her body, yet she stood there wearing a petticoat wrapped around her slender self. the truth was , she was fascinated by the sun, especially when it sets.she believed that it held invincible power and profound beauty, a unique blend, just like death she thought:peaceful and eloquently silent.
she lived in a rented appartment in a sequestered part of the city. there was a pot bearing a small plant on the window sill that bore a red flower. she loved it. it seemed the only thing that gave her joy. it looked specially beautiful against the crimson sky. she had very few acquaintances save for the landlord and his son. she had seen him once though she didn't remember when. she was standing at the veranda. she noticed a little guy being dragged by a man with quite an effort because the child was too stubborn to give in... she continued to gaze at them until they were out of sight.
suddenly she wanted to run indoors, to seek refuge,the memory had blurred but the pain hadn't. it came back to her. nevertheless she managed to cling on to life , she was too young to realise then...she stared with fearful eyes at the cragged edges of a dead tree that was was piercing the setting sun manifolds. she went inside unable to bear the sudden pain which had no voice, which used to numb her the moment she thought about it.
she went in front of the mirror and stood there looking at her own self, she looked into her own eyes and tried to read them , she felt it was a completely different being altogether standing right in front of her, trying to communicate something maliciously painful. . .yet she could not reach out to the "other being". She carefully examined her perfectly sinuous features, full bosom that rendered a completeness to her feminity. she looked at her reflection with adoring eyes; for the first time, she realised that she had changed into a woman from the little timid girl she was, a few years ago. The next moment she was sickened to think of the very fact that she discovered right then. Suddenly she was disillusioned and looked at herself with contempt, disgust and shame. she wanted to get rid of her fleshly robe that was vile, marred and impure. somehow she couldn't stand her own self when she pondered over her bruised past. yet she didn't really know what to do.. she felt utterly helpless at times.
it was getting late, yet she wanted to linger deliberately , as if bent on solving some riddle that had bothered her often at the back of her mind... the voice came back to her , it would run shivers down her spine. she wanted to escape; there was no way; she wanted to be healed; there was no way.. she had to live . she got restless and went near the window, she remembered the line from woolf's dalloway that fascinated her: "death is an embrace" she repeated it again and again... it gave her a different joy, similar to the one, one feels after making a difficult discovery. she decided to go out and take a stroll by the nearby river.
the river looked strangely beautiful that afternoon.. the water was restless, it looked very treacherous. the river was smeared with the colourful adieu of the phoebus. it was getting dark. there were patches of cloud in the sky. there was a strong gust of wind blowing now and then. she stood there , she closed her eyes and let the wind blow against her... she could sense the strength..she loved these non-existently existent elements of nature, they always intrigued her.
she went near the river ; she looked at it with fearless, triumphant eyes.the moon above was hidden behind the floating clouds as if keeping herself from witnessing some impending evil. there was a eerie smile on her face. . . it was dreadfully dark.
Next morning the door of her appartment was locked , the curtains were ruffled by the previous night's storm, the plant was dwindled, bright red petals of the flower lay scattered on the floor, the flower that she loved...
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