This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 59; the fifty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with IndiCreator. For Creators. By Creators.. Share Your #LockdownTales at indicreator.com
She sauntered around the room, brushing her finger on the settled dust on the placid bedstand. How many days had gone by since she had seen another adult? She wondered.
The dredge and the humdrum were now drowning into a routine that she could not shake off. She drank the old room around her, not bohemium or minimalistic or too fancy. It was a standard room as any room can be.
A large diwan in the centre, a cupboard and a common bedstand. Nothing too fancy. Nothing too cheap.
Just enough.
But now this room looked enough and dreadful for her. She wanted to spread her wings, and she wanted to fly. She wanted to taste worldly flavours, and she wanted to go out.
She pulled her hair behind and secured them in a pony. Tied her dupatta to …
She sauntered around the room, brushing her finger on the settled dust on the placid bedstand. How many days had gone by since she had seen another adult? She wondered.
The dredge and the humdrum were now drowning into a routine that she could not shake off. She drank the old room around her, not bohemium or minimalistic or too fancy. It was a standard room as any room can be.
A large diwan in the centre, a cupboard and a common bedstand. Nothing too fancy. Nothing too cheap.
Just enough.
But now this room looked enough and dreadful for her. She wanted to spread her wings, and she wanted to fly. She wanted to taste worldly flavours, and she wanted to go out.
She pulled her hair behind and secured them in a pony. Tied her dupatta to …