“Clara, what happened? Why are you not speaking up?”, asked the worried voice to the silence which was a proof of the anxiety felt in the breath of Clara.
She thought of it as just an illusion and thought of having a cup of coffee so that she could start working again.
Walk steadily across the corridor reaching the coffee machine was a task in itself. She was not afraid of the illusion but the reality in it. Reality of the moments she had ran from across in that time.
Pouring coffee in that hour seemed like the refreshment of the moments of agony. Just when she heared the voice as if like a whisper ….’Claraaaa …..my sweet clara”…
Aghast….she turned back to find nothing but a dead flower resting near her feat….She picked it to see…..fearing the moments and the voice……Life was turning full circle in her face for they were reminding her of just HIM.
Five years back
It was in one of those evenings that he caught her unaware, lost in herself to catch a glimpse and feel the breathe of love.
Before she knew , the way to the library turned into a way into another territory where the dreams caught her arms sticking her pencil body to the walls to catch a glimpse of her eyes.
The beauty of words swelled a unknown feeling inside her and before she knew , with a innocent kiss on her checks, he disappeared in thin air and leaving her feeling a moment she could never decipher- a moment which could create laugter and smiles.Before she could even know, the moment had turned in love, the love of the senses, the love of the smells.
The moments were beautiful, the love was amazing and the history was being written. The history of time, of the moments , of the love and the history of Clara and Brian. The love which will be revived time and again till…………..