The hopeful need

To know that you are wanted

The days that brings with every sun rays

The hesitant steps, the swishing of the gown

And The hope that the doorbell rings

Is it such a dreary thought?

The bed is warm and the lights are out-

The rustle of the sheets whispers

The moment feels heavy

Waking up to the sounds of the whistle

The aromas of coffee that lingers

In the kitchen and the dining room

Knowing that it'll awake within few moments

Is that what you want?

Is it how you wanted?

Then why does the back cramp

From deep within

Those tears that refuse to fall

The eyes that resign themselves

To the need that they crave

One knowing glance and a loving hug

They search and then settle down 

At the sounds of his footsteps

It's time to smile

It's time to bend acquiescence

It's time to put on a mask

The dawn breaks forth

And yet another day has begun...

Oh! To be a fly!

Oh! To be a fly. Sitting on the bouquet of flowers next to the armrest of the couch, while my favourite hero writes. To be able to delve into his thoughts. To be able to understand why he is what he is.
Oh! to be a fly. To watch how he does it every moment of his life. Being so gentle, so caring and so loving. To watch that twinkle in his eye. To read his mind while he sips his mug of tea.

Is it a difficult task, I think to myself.
Aren't we all similar to him in many ways. So how or what is it, that makes him tick.? What is it that makes him more wanted by others? I'd like to know more.
But do I really want to know. Or am I content with just knowing him for what he portrays. What he reveals. What he writes.
It's a maze in there. Inside my thoughts. It's confusing. It's overwhelming. But am I ready to let go of my picture of him?
I think I need some more time..some more moments cherishing what I have had in my dreams with him.
I let him be. As he writes. As he thinks. As he smiles.
I fly away. Back to my world, to my existence, to my happy befuddling rumination.

In response to the word prompt of the day Fly over at Marathon Bloggers 

Hopes

Where is that horizon?
The one that was to be
The rosy tint it gained
Has suddenly ceased to be.

Is there hope?
The light at the end of the tunnel
Seemed to glow brighter
And then it was darkness

The futility of it all
The sighs and cries
The hands that held
Waved a goodbye after all 

The eyes of the world..

He had tried his best to be what the world wanted him to be. He had tried starving, gym, surgery. It just didn't help. He now needed help to just sit. His weight was just not letting him be normal.

They found his body a day later

They said he died because they wouldn't accept him..

Written in response to the prompt for 55 word fiction at Marathon Bloggers

Sighing away a dream

Standing in front of the unfinished building she looked, with a tear in her eye. The bay window in front was to overlook the garden where the little one could play and she could watch from her kitchen. The dream of the gurgle and the sparkling laughter. It would all remain ,just a dream...

This is in response to the 55word fiction prompts at Marathon Bloggers.

Weighty pleas!!

If he looked at it one more time, I'm sure a voice would have been heard
But today looked like the forces were against him. He had pleaded one last time..but alas! The needle refused to budge.
Watching in mute shock, the weighing machine just smirked


                                           *************************************


This was written in response to the prompts at 55ers a 55 word story over at Marathon Bloggers 

Kissed, oh! So tenderly!

Stark white, fresh green, dewy petals. Struggling to open.
The diluted rays of the morning sun
Sashaying across the sky
Leisurely, with no purpose
Sweeps down , planting a tender kiss
And the shy petals blush in wide surprise

This was in response to the prompt 'That tender kiss' at 'Marathon Bloggers' a week long attempt at doing a 55 word story