Throbbing in a Stone Cage

The calm morning light was seeping in through the sheer white curtains. She opened her eyes, slowly, hoping to see the familiar bookshelf, the computer table and the calendar and the clock on the wall.

None of the diffused familiarity met her myopic eye.Β The dominant colour in this room was white: the floor, the doors, the curtains, the bed-sheets. For a moment she thought she was inside a hospital. Then the train journey dawned on her mind – the endless green fields, the sparse, tall, grassy mountains, and the occasional railway station.

Her breathing stilled. Her body tensed. She felt as if her heart had been put inside a stone cage and it was throbbing for lack of space.

The tears threatened, but they’d have to wait. There were calls to make, assurances to give and way, way too many days to pass like this.

The count had only begun.

15 thoughts on “Throbbing in a Stone Cage

  1. anankhan98

    The first nights are passed in fitful sleep. Then, you get used to it. You grow into it, and then you grow out of it.
    Beautifully written, Arpi (if I may call you that)! πŸ™‚ Once you live through it all the journey home will mean that much more.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    1. Arpita Post author

      You’re spot on with that Anan. Every minute I’ll spend home when I go back I’ll cherish now. And yes, you may most certainly call me Arpi. A few of my friends call me Appy too, so that’s also fine by me. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

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