Monday 21 March 2011

The Call (draft)

Candle lights on the altar fluttered as she hobbled slowly across the room to close the remaining open windows.
The lazy gaze of the Gods she prayed to seem to follow her every move.
She would welcome the billowing breeze on such warm and humid night but the pesky mosquitoes buzzed incessantly, lavishing themselves on exposed skin at the nape of her neck.
Picking up the cordless phone, she hobbled to her room cold, dark room. Journey made difficult after her debilitating stroke she suffered years ago.
Settling herself on the squeaky bed, she squinted hard and pressed on the keypad.
Familiar ringtone came through the earpiece. She held her breath, hoping that she did not call at the wrong time again.
The ringtone goes on and on, like a malfunction cd, skipping on the same track over and over again.
Eventually, it lapsed into expressionless tone bot requesting her to leave her message.
Sighing loudly, she hung up the phone and looked around the room. The only sanctuary within the wide expanse of the house.
She grimaced when she thought of the days when her children ran around the house, a house filled with laughter, tears and most of all, it was a house filled with life.
Her prayers were not answered. Her repeated calls were conveniently ignored by her children.
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