thirty five

Such display of grief would not have continued after many months that had dragged to two years if not that she buried her heart deeply for this man. With the heavy sorrow still oppressing her heart she had to cry it all out, the sighs, the tears and sorrows long endured.  Many others who died on that crash had taken it up to bear their losses with ease and had forgotten it all. As these memories survived her existence, she got up slowly from her bed stared at the figure, softly torching it and dropping it at once.

         Now her moment of contemplation was brief. The longer she gazed at that enlarged image of Zack, the blanker became the picture of the man who sat on it. He was no more. With all the sincerity of her nature she wanted to be faithful in her mind as well as her body, even at death, to the man she had once married.  At least in keeping with her loyalty to him. Uncertain about the future and unable to fail to the pressure of going through the necessary legal procedure of going into another marriage, she remained calm. During these eventful times that ran up in her memories, she was literary caged; confused on what to do.

         All these could not have happened .The scars of the recent war was slowly healing and it was a good thing to believe that the consciences of both sides were at work and death by crash as a result of political sabotage was truly criminal and inhuman. When it was assumed that the regions that were deeply affected by the war got the highest victims in the crash, it was possible that the healing scars would reopen. Someday.

         The next day and the next, and the next, were passed in similar though, awful thought.