There is something between each mote of dust,
suspended in the light of the bulb that I switch
on: elementally flawed, fundamentally twisted,
fanatically fucked, and so,
I walked out to no serenade of songbirds,
and walked to the old museum,
I saw her looking at the
art and my eyes trailed hers, she looked up
at the mesmerizing ceiling and I’ll admit
that the dome, structured like something
you’ll see in a kaleidoscope, albeit muted
in hue captivated me, but not like she did,
she soon walked outside, and I contemplated
trailing her for a while, but I let the thought fade,
and just wandered inside, peering at
dwarfed menhirs and impressionistic paintings,
I finally walked out and sat in a café,
book in hand and saw
her again, smoking that slender cigarette, exhaling
a slight stream with elegance, the antithesis of
my incessant puffing, she glanced at me once,
the wanderlust in her eyes spelling more than
the book I was reading, but words on a page
reverse decisions, and bring a hundred
recollections, the nonchalant me
drawn like the south attracted to the
north pole of a magnet, the grit repelled
by a potential passion on Red Bull romance,
the cobweb of musing considering a
potential rejection, but words also
lie within flimsy paperbacks these days,
and uncertainty is sometimes hope, and so I let
the metaphors stay suspended in the darkness
without the glow of a bookmark, and walked
up to her.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)

Image copyright: © Roger Bultot

For Friday Fictioneers 

17 responses

    • Thank you Rochelle! Boy! It’s going to be hard cutting this down to 100 words. Can you let me go this time please? I’ll definitely stick to the word limit next week!

  1. Welcome, Nitin, to Friday Fictioneers.
    This is truly beautiful and, like Rochelle, I challenge you to cut it down to 100 words, as per the challenge. I bet you it will still be fabulous!

    • Thank you so much Dale! But man! It’s going to be hard bringing this down to 100 words. Let me go this time, and I’ll definitely stick to the word count next time!

      • But that is the challenge 😉! Cutting it down is what we all strive for and it teaches us to cut the fluff and the repetition… looking forward to your next one

  2. Your poetry is lovely, and the story was easy to follow. However, I echo the others. 100 words. Challenge yourself. You’ll be surprised at what can be deleted without changing your story.

    • The problem is that I write using a stream of consciousness style. This time, I’ll agree, I just kept on going. Next time, I’ll definitely reduce the word count. Thank you for your kind words.

  3. Lovely language, and comparisons made inside it, for example the style of smoking a cigarette. I sense it is these small things that make us alpha or beta in relationships. I did love your piece but would gently echo the one hundred word note.

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