The dreary silver ball strode leisurely not letting the morning sun shone it’s colorful rays on the vast mass of land and water.
What was it trying to do?
Probably, protecting some girl from the deplorable state she was up for tomorrow.
A girl with ombre brunette hair stood infront of the mirror exploring her features.
Her eyes roved about her face finally settling on her nose.
She moved closer to the mirror and tilted her head.
She traced the outline of her nose, keeping one straight finger on it.
Trying to figure out, how was it crooked.
“You have a crooked nose.” He had said hugging her from behind, kissing her shoulder.
And yet she was here in her boudoir, dressed in flannels,under the burning lamp, readily admitting, “It’s crooked,indeed” she smiled.
“Is she demented? ” asked the desperate sun waiting for his turn to come up.
“She loves him.” Replied the moon pitifully.
“Love? She believes him? Just like that?” The ball of fire asked irritated.
“That’s what love does. It tames you, it overpowers you, it makes you feel weak yet strong.” The moon tenderly replied.
“Does she know of the mistress he screws behind her? The many other mistresses he has for his very own pleasures. Now, does she?” The sun rolled his eyes hoping she would hear him.
The bright silver ball chose to remain quiet.
The girl with lustrous ombre brunette hair, smiled to herself and wrapped herself in the warmth of her blanket.
Dreaming of his sombre grey eyes,hoping to be enveloped in his arms again. Hoping to hear his voice again.
Too oblivious of his deceiving facade.
Too oblivious of his crooked nose.
Too drowned in his love.
*Photo courtesy: pexels.com
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