Pens and Pages

Sitting on a rock near the lake, Tisha was ruminating on what went wrong in her dream. Alas! She couldn’t recall how her dream ended; but she wished she could. Playing with her dark brown hair with her fingers, she wondered what if for once her dream didn’t come true. When she realized that she was hoping for something people pray the contrary of, she laughed at her cursed life. It is time. She looked at the sky above and a tiny drop of water fell on her right cheek. It began to rain and she turned around to find her little sister coming towards her in a hurry carrying a red umbrella with her tiny hands. The umbrella, how could I forget it? It was common for Tisha to have weird dreams; dreams of people she didn’t know, dreams of people she knew, dreams of herself, et cetera.  It was when she was 10 years old that she realized her dreams come true; or rather whatever would happen the next day she would see it beforehand in her dreams. At first she used to dream about fall...

She stares at the blank paper Crumbled a million times, Like her own life. She stares at the glass of wine, As clear as her heart could be, Sparkling only when it should - Every time you look at it. He looks at the mess she is now, Oh, didn't he love her once, For the tears and the scars? Time plays its part As it moves on, He too moves on And she, like the paper She holds, Holds a life that needs Someone to unfold it, To wipe the wrinkles Off her pale white face. A tear-drop finds its way To her soul, bruised, He laughs and goes off While she awaits  Another tragedy...