the touch

ONE
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She sat down beside the river. The sun was setting on the other bank, behind a small line of trees. Its pink rays touched the river and turned it crimson.

She wondered if it was with happiness or shyness.

The river water rippled and touched her feet. A cool sensation filled up her body. She stretched her feet and dipped them in the water.

The water softly rippled around her feet as if it was touching her, playing with her.

There was something about water that pulled her like magnet, she often had a dream, or dreams like that, she was falling into water, but after falling she did not drowned, in place of that she could swim in it like fishes do.

She got up, she had to return home before sunset… before dark.

Or else his father will send a search party for her.

“Hey little girl…” her father was waiting on the verandah.

“Hey dad!” she smiled.

A tray with two glasses of lemonades was waiting, ice cold.

“I will be going out on trip tomorrow…. Rani will stay with you till I return…” he said. “Will miss you darling…but will have to go…”

“It’s ok daddy…” she snuggled close to him and laid her head on his shoulder.

He left next morning, early.

His sister Rani came over to stay with Misha.

She was very fond of Misha, and her late mother, who passed away all of a sudden only a month ago.

Misha was very close to her mother, her father was a frequent traveler, rarely at home. At her mother’s request he bought this house on the bank of a mountain river, with huge amount of land on one bank, including a small wood.

The river looked quite nice during summer and winter but in monsoon they could hear it from their bed, roaring, hitting the rocks as it made its way through them.

It looked beautiful- like thunder, like lightning- like erupting volcano.

The deers, rabbits and birds from the woods roamed freely in their land, garden.

It was a lovely place to live in. A place of pure beauty and peace.

Shekhar, Misha’s father was devastated when she passed away.

At first he thought about selling the property, returning to Delhi but Misha begged him to not to.

She too loved this place. She passed every minute of her free time out, away from home, the only time she was home was from sunset to sunrise.

Shekhar has built a treehouse for her in a sturdy tree near the woods, the house was visible from home and guard station, so it was absolutely safe and a piece of heaven for Misha, she often took her books there and studied or read.

It was her personal heaven, no one else went there, they were too busy to join her there, and she just loved that.

It had two rooms, a toilet and a small balcony. A professional treehouse builder was hired to build the house.

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TO BE CONTINUED….

In case you miss a part or two check them out here- earthinbw.wordpress.com/a-little-bunch-of-stories/the-touch/
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2 comments

  1. This has some wonderful scenery and descriptions in it, Sharmishtha. I love the second paragraph, “She wondered if it was with happiness or shyness.” That’s just great. ๐Ÿ™‚

I LOVE TO READ AND RETURN COMMENTS. SOME OF MY READERS DONT LEAVE URL, IF THEY START LEAVING URL I WILL JUST LOVE TO READ THEIR WORKS TOO.

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