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The lady with a smoking stick

A sequel or rather a side story to ' my grandpa Hercules ' where we will meet her, the most wicket and a chain smoker- my granny, the lady with a smoking stick, or as I consider her the Loki! But is this all in her story?! Or did we just read it upside down?!

Thedarkhattie · Urban
Not enough ratings
21 Chs

Chapter11th (Wanderer of night couldn't let me sleep all night)

*Day one in shanti niwas, early morning 3:10 am* 

Everything's touched by the absolute hollowness of the great darkness within however, still like the moon shining above with innocence, my two brothers lay adjacent to each other lost in the beautiful dreams of the childish era, and Chachi to one corner smirking to herself while watching 'Sath nibhana sathiya' in forbidden dusk while Chachu snored peacefully both arms spread over the foldable sofa upstairs were sleeping like a log, before all the headache which was about to fall with the sunrise, 

however, here on the ground floor... I, 'the guest' sat in the uttering horror. 

"Uh bui..."

silent with no stretch of my muscles, awake but with closed eyes I lay clenching my fist and jaw into flesh but unfortunately, it was just bone with the thinnest blubber in which my fingers pained. however, all that I did was a defense mechanism for my skull from the ongoing situation of both confusion and terror.

Each tap of the feet is a distinct knockpercussive punctuation that resonates briefly in the air before the next tap follows, and in such a dead environment, the sound can be heard clear and resonant, echoing slightly...of those hefty feet of Her's...the wanderer of the night. however, that wasn't of worry, of course, old age does bring more toilet breaks and sleepless nights due to common, nocturia.

but if that was all the night may hold then I wouldn't have quoted her as 'the night hag!' for sure.

as I heard the slow creaking voice of the door, I looked through one of my eyes to witness, with petite steps and painfully scoffing morns of 'uh bui...', she made an exit through the door of the room with those brown-orange-colored hairs untied falling by her shoulder--

wait, her hair is untied! HER HAIR IS UNTIED?!

'Then who has been teaching us to sleep with breaded ponytails dripping in mustard oil? hypocrisy! no doubt! --OR--' 

scummy, I turned my body at a 180 turn to the opposite cheek getting smashed, yeah.

yeah... the bed behind me is truly empty of any human presence for now (Phew, I can expect that lady wasn't a doppelgänger for now). so was the room, finally alone I opened my eyes wider staring at the ceiling once more. 

'Finally... I feel some air in my lungs.' 

sweet, peaceful, and calm oxygen but... a crease of wrinkles twirls on my nose as I rush to cover it with that camphor bed sheet. 

'Fuck...this smell...?"

It drew all the nightmare at once...but the only difference was- that not everything was a nightmare and... none of it shall be counted as pure fiction. 

however, this smell-that instant pungent smell was unmistakably recognizable!

the smell of burning cigarette 

 The burning smell of dried leaves, reminiscent of cedar and freshly cut wood, as if the world was spreading in a wildfire...everything was catching up within the flames, of such orange-yellow shades similar to this room I rest within,

'How peaceful it would be if I wither away in these flames?'

and I could see myself engulfed in these cursed flames ---

Abruptly, without a second warning, the door creaked open, and my eyes drew shut almost perpetual, leaving no sign of being up.

'Yeah, nailed it with my years of--- never mind.' 

she walked in sliding her feet to the ground as if it was too heavy for her to carry and then she threw herself to the bed with 'uh bui...' 

however...again I wish the night drama may end here...but, such a wish was only a wish.

'cause the cycle of such even had just begun... this cycle will continue like 6 times until the sun doesn't knock at our door. 

That shall mean...I will not be able to have a peaceful sleep until then. 

'Oh, wonderful! And that was the reason second, I would avoid sleeping next to my sleep nemesis.' 

*****

Day 2nd, Morning 9 am,

'Action Kamen, you can do it!' that chubby cheeky anime boy drew in vibrant crayon colours whom anyone could identify from the long-running cycles of our memories from childhood- the 5-year-old Shin-Chan cried clenching both his fists to his chest dedicatedly cheering that earthy coloured superhero who is fighting with that 8-legged octopus (another one of villain), even if how ironical it was for that to be goin' on television as if I was watching him on television as an utter distraction...letting go of my reality at once and for all--

"Were your dark circles so chasmic yesterday too or am I noticing it now?" chachi questioned looking right onto my face with a questioning but somehow amusement glimpsing through that fair round face while freshly sliced onion sat on the tray on her lap and cooker whistle sitting on the stove calling that it's just one more whistle to go.

failing my wonderful escape from reality in one crack as if laughing right on my face 'How could you hold such a wish to just vanish away?' 

With a lazy eye... I gave a responsive look in her direction and continued, of course, I wouldn't be holding the stalk of the ignorant amoral elder child anywhere,

"I may not have slept well last time" I answered rubbing my right eye from the unplumbed to the hollow valley which thanks to twice my blood disease during the first year of birth, I was rewarded with, or as many of their eyes convey-

'I was cursed forever with...a stain to my beauty'

"Now the exams are over what's distressing you in the meantime?" she asked immediately looking right into my hollow eyes as if jerking my soul by its collar as if saying-' why don't you rest?! do you want to embed your eyeballs within your skull or something?!' 

A question that I couldn't resist...

'SHIN-CHAN!' and at the perfect timing, the whistle of the cooker blew calling to be escorted.

"Gotta go" and she rushed with the tray of chopped onions inside that small gas chamber --- I mean the kitchen, but honestly, it was built on the smallest plot of land almost as if the toilets were gigantic as compared to it, 

a nice save by the cooker making my partially parted lips question- 'is that you, my guardian angel?' 

And from that day on...my guardian angel is the 'flubbed pressure cooker of the Shanta niwas'

(Hey readers, 

new day and yeah, I have broken my spine...not literally but yeah, I have to place a curtain to relieve pain, but I guess you would like it, not my misery at least until you are a sadist. 

enjoy the chapter. 

yours, 

author)