The tear dropped. The throat choked. The fists clenched. Unclenched. Loosened in release. Sweat. Sticky sweat. Purposeful sweat. Finished sweat.
Plop. A cleansing, salty eye-drop. Messy yet pristine.
Over, the purpose was lost. Consumed in a rush of despair, a frenzy of hope, of mottled joy. Realisation of achievement, and disappointment..
Sachin was back.

3 thoughts:

babelfish Monday, November 14, 2005  

o thou superb vague one seeks permission to put up this lovely story on the 55-word blog...it's so nice when you get out of your lyad :D

Anonymous Tuesday, November 15, 2005  


Anonymous Tuesday, November 15, 2005  

babel: the 55 word blog, o fishy one?

ph: hmpf

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