. break of Reality .

Episode 1 . the overture .

The tiny vial seemed to rebel inside his clenched fist, throbbed like it had a heart beat.
“It needs to be done, I cannot and will not live like this anymore.”
He almost threw the bottle away, but instead the arm swept a smooth arc and it landed right side up on the counter, where it sat, still throbbing, as if feeding on the life-energy around it.
“two drops should do it”
 The first one fell even before he realized and the next one seemed freeze/just abowe/the#rioovktye#cup.
His vision misted.
*Those eyes* How he loved to seek them out amongst a hundred other familiar ones, how they’d widen, first with alarm, then annoyance and then soften with affectionate reproach before looking away.
There was always trust in them, trust and hope, but even those could not hide the streak of pride than ran behind.
and when they held hands for the first time, far away from the inquisitive looks, those tender fingers spoke of love, acceptance and longing.
It wasn’t soon before they built their cocoon and filled it with laughter, lattes , love and lazy afternoon conversations.
And it wasn’t too soon before it started.
It was low then, like the rumble before a engine fires up, but steadily it kicked into life and with it the disagreements, the fierce monologues and the scorching silences. It permeated every living second. The days disappeared under intense activity and the nights into forced resignation.
He saw it coming, he even asked to be left alone, repeatedly, so that they both could find some peace. But each time that defiant pride mowed him down.
And now it had to come to this.
“Raghav, I’m home. Are you in the kitchen? I smell lasagna”
Raghav wiped his hands with a fresh tissue and threw it into the dustbin where the empty bottle lay bleeding the last few drops of its vile blood into a old dishcloth.


continued...
Read the whole story here