8pm.
‘They’re late’, thought she as she laid the table. Impatiently she glanced at
the clock. ‘I’ll be late… again’. She hated to be late. But then, a smile lit
her face as she thought about her nightly tryst with her … ‘friend’ well yes,
friend, love, companion. She relived that heady feeling; that touch of the
evening breeze on her skin – cool and refreshing in the summer, arctic crisp in
the winter; the intoxicating scent of summer tube roses that kept them company
or the Chrysanthemums that filled the winter nights with their fragrance. And
there was music, ah yes, the music had to be just right.
‘They’re late’, thought she as she laid the table. Impatiently she glanced at
the clock. ‘I’ll be late… again’. She hated to be late. But then, a smile lit
her face as she thought about her nightly tryst with her … ‘friend’ well yes,
friend, love, companion. She relived that heady feeling; that touch of the
evening breeze on her skin – cool and refreshing in the summer, arctic crisp in
the winter; the intoxicating scent of summer tube roses that kept them company
or the Chrysanthemums that filled the winter nights with their fragrance. And
there was music, ah yes, the music had to be just right.
She
smiled to herself then shook her head to dispel the image – later, she told
herself firmly, it’ll have to wait. Only after dinner could she give in to her
passion. First, she was a mum, a wife.
As
if on cue, the kids rushed in.
if on cue, the kids rushed in.
‘Hurry
hurry’, said she. ‘Wash and change. Dinner’s at the table’. Half an hour later
as the Husband settled down to the day’s news before the telly, she tucked the
kids in and kissed them good night.
hurry’, said she. ‘Wash and change. Dinner’s at the table’. Half an hour later
as the Husband settled down to the day’s news before the telly, she tucked the
kids in and kissed them good night.
Free
at last, she walked out of her apartment, out in the open air for her nightly
rendezvous – that one hour of pure, selfish happiness – hers and hers alone –
with her love, her friend. She sniffed the fresh air with pleasured
anticipation then reached for her iPod. Her friend was before her, waiting. ‘I’ve
come,’ said she breathlessly, as the road stretched ahead – silent, inviting,
encouraging.
at last, she walked out of her apartment, out in the open air for her nightly
rendezvous – that one hour of pure, selfish happiness – hers and hers alone –
with her love, her friend. She sniffed the fresh air with pleasured
anticipation then reached for her iPod. Her friend was before her, waiting. ‘I’ve
come,’ said she breathlessly, as the road stretched ahead – silent, inviting,
encouraging.
She
ran then, the pounding of her feet matched by the hammering of her heart,
drowning herself in the pure pleasure of the adrenalin rush of her run,
forgetting everything else – just she and the road, her love for all seasons.
ran then, the pounding of her feet matched by the hammering of her heart,
drowning herself in the pure pleasure of the adrenalin rush of her run,
forgetting everything else – just she and the road, her love for all seasons.
So do you have a secret hobby too? Or maybe not a secret, but something special that you do ONLY for yourself? To unwind, to have fun – just fun? Do share here.
Linking to Blog-A-Rhythm’s Wordy Wednesday.
like very much. You tried something new. Paarth NU Lucknow
Thanks for dropping by Suraj and for your kind comment.
Is that your secret hobby?! It's a wonderful thing to have!
Kind of Roshni – though it's not such a secret.
Wow, didn't see that coming. What a great twist! Wish I shared a love of running but I don't. I do like walking though and find it very refreshing, both mentally and physically.
Absolutely. I am also more a walker than a runner. I love that feeling of disconnecting from everything and just enjoying the music and the breeze.
🙂 a good twist he he he
running is good ..
and how can i tell you that hobby it is supposed to be a SECRET 🙂
Bikram's
Ha ha Bikram. Secrets can be shared, can't they?
I just loved the way you described everything, specially the ending. No matter how much I try, I just can't run but I can't wait to reach home after work to indulge in a blissfull hour yoga and workout. 😀
Thanks Rajlakshmi. Running takes practice. I'm just beginning to try. Well I've seen your yoga pictures and it seems to have kept you in amazing shape so way to go. Any kind of workout, no matter what it is, makes you feel good.
I knew the ending will be something nice as you have written.I liked it.
Heh heh! Thanks KP.
I used to run…but never developed a passion for it. Probably because I always ended my runs puking and gasping for precious breath. Lol.
Oh dear that doesn't sound nice. But running or for that matter any form of exercise can give one quite a high.
Back to blogging with a twist, I see. Finally! Loving the image of you on your tryst 🙂
Well you asked for a twist, didn't you? Jokes apart – it's ages since I tried anything like this.
I too was tricked into believing that a secret lover was waiting for her. brilliant twist. A wife , a mother could take up a sport is really encouraging.
It's a bit autobiographical Kalpana, since I dearly love my nightly walks. It's hardly a secret though!
Ah, such a brilliant twist Tulika! Love it! 🙂 "Secret" hobby is writing, currently via my blog and rendezvousing with bloggers worldwide! 😉 <3
Thanks Elly. Love for writing is what binds all of us bloggers.
Wow you tricked me there..I thought it was a rendezvous with a lover 🙂
Did I? Thanks 🙂 Well there WAS a lover!