FRIDAY FICTION with RONOVAN WRITES Prompt Challenge #16-A lie is told.

Of White Lies and Wilder Nights ( Part 5 of  FICTION SERIES:  A FAIR  AFFAIR)
By Neel Anil Panicker
He licked the last of the floating juice off the back of his hands. Not yet satisfied, he forked out a reddish tongue, and scooped up the last few droplets that had accumulated in his upper arms.


Watching the obnoxious spectacle from the edges of the kitchen door, Shefali allowed the corners of her lips to curve out into a half smile__secretive and deadly.As the dark silhouette ambled past her, his slim frame shook as he farted, the sound not unlike that of a minor gas explosion. Thankfully, it came minus the noxious fumes and was odourless.It was an indicator she knew very well.  He did that when his stomach agreed with the food, which was indeed a rarity, as it was now.
Her eyes gleamed at the thought. She was right, and rightfully had served him his favourite curd-sambhar rice.What was that they said? The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. From the two feet distance that separated them, she studied him. He had washed his hands and as his swarthy mouth met the edges of the fresh green bordered cotton towel that she had extracted from the top drawer almirah especially for this occasion, she knew it was time to shift gears.Four years is a long time to get to know someone. Especially if that someone happens to be your husband, and more so, if that turns out to be Aman.
Right from the time he woke up at ten in the morning to the time he hit the bed at about two past midnight, Shefali could pinpoint accurately_ right down to the last hour and last minute and last wee bit second_ every single thing that he did, day in and day out. The man was as robotic as they come. As Aman disappeared into the bedroom, Shefali’s eyes fell on the huge circular clock high up in the drawing room wall.

Seven fifty-eight.

She needn’t have gone in to see what he was upto. Everything had been laid out__his dress_blue cotton trousers, a freshly ironed half sleeved off white shirt and a sky blue underwear. Placed besides were the gilded square shaped Titan watch (a side gift, a mere afterthought from her father over and above the fat cat dowry that had changed hands at the time of the marriage), and a sparkling white handkerchief.

She heard the slow creak of the door. She had positioned herself all well. She stood beside the showcase, her hands hovering over the lineup of deities, all six in number, pretending to dust off imaginary specks. As if they needed any further dusting, she wondered.

Thirty seconds. Time was fleeting by. He had come closer. She could feel his breath. There he was, walking past him, clutching in his left hand the ubiquitous dog eared faded brown leather bag inside which she knew would be the keys to the bar and a few paper bills.His free hand was about to fall on the door handle. She knew it was now or never. And went in for the kill.

 

“You know Arti, my school friend? lives in America …came down for our wedding.”

He slowed, just a wee bit, but did not stop.

From where she was positioned, to his right, she could not catch much though she could see his eyes were, as ever, expressionless.

“Yes”, what about her”. She detected an impatience in his tone.

“She has finally got her green card…is going to America tomorrow. Wants me to spend the night at her place… is sending in her car”. It all came out in one breath.

Her heart suddenly turned heavy, real heavy, as if a ten tonne brick had landed on it. She could feel blood flowing through her veins. She steadied herself, bobbing her head against the wall. Suddenly, she felt a dizziness in her head.

Life seemed to have come to a standstill. After what seemed like an eternity, all that came out of his mouth was

“When?”

His hands were now on the door knob.
She knew there was no time for niceties. She had to be fast.

“What when? I have left the spare keys in your bag”. Somehow, she managed to keep her voice steady.
The hands had prized open the door and he was now on his way out.

“When will you be back? And what about dinner?”, he hissed just as the lift doors opened.

Dinner! Stupid asshole… was worried about who would serve him dinner.

Just as the lift doors slammed shut, she rammed in the final words.

“Ranjana will come in. I have told her to prepare chicken biryani.”

They were lost, or at least the last few as the lift raced downstairs.
She waited for two more seconds to hear as the lift doors, three below, slammed open one more time.

He was out__out of the house, out of the colony, and out of her life for the next whopping twenty four hours of her fucking life.

Her body shook at the realisation, and she let out a loud squeal.

At that instant the phone rang. She heard where it came from, aimed and leapt at one go. Even before her lithe frame crash landed into the innards of the leather sofa, her hands had picked up the phone, much before the second ring.

“Get undressed, Rishi. I am there in ten minutes”, she panted into the mouthpiece as a slow wetness began to form somewhere deep inside her inner legs.
***

Of white lies and wilder nights ( Cont series Part 5 of A FAIR AFFAIR)
By Neel Anil Panicker

He licked the last of the floating juice off the back of his hands. Not yet satisfied, he forked out a reddish tongue, and scooped up the last few droplets that had accumulated in his upper arms.

Watching the obnoxious spectacle from the edges of the kitchen door, Shefali allowed the corners of her lips to curve out into a half smile__secretive and deadly.

As the dark silhouette ambled past her, his slim frame shook as he farted, the sound not unlike that of a minor gas explosion. Thankfully, it came minus the noxious fumes and was odourless.

It was an indicator she knew very well.  He did that when his stomach agreed with the food, which was indeed a rarity, as it was now.
Her eyes gleamed at the thought. She was right, and rightfully had served him his favourite curd-sambhar rice.

What was that they said? The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. From the two feet distance that separated them, she studied him. He had washed his hands and as his swarthy mouth met the edges of the fresh green bordered cotton towel that she had extracted from the top drawer almirah especially for this occasion, she knew it was time to shift gears.

Four years is a long time to get to know someone. Especially if that someone happens to be your husband, and more so, if that turns out to be Aman.
Right from the time he woke up at ten in the morning to the time he hit the bed at about two past midnight, Shefali could pinpoint accurately_ right down to the last hour and last minute and last wee bit second_ every single thing that he did, day in and day out. The man was as robotic as they come. As Aman disappeared into the bedroom, Shefali’s eyes fell on the huge circular clock high up in the drawing room wall.

Seven fifty-eight.

She needn’t have gone in to see what he was upto. Everything had been laid out__his dress_blue cotton trousers, a freshly ironed half sleeved off white shirt and a sky blue underwear. Placed besides were the gilded square shaped Titan watch (a side gift, a mere afterthought from her father over and above the fat cat dowry that had changed hands at the time of the marriage), and a sparkling white handkerchief.

She heard the slow creak of the door. She had positioned herself all well. She stood beside the showcase, her hands hovering over the lineup of deities, all six in number, pretending to dust off imaginary specks. As if they needed any further dusting, she wondered.

Thirty seconds. Time was fleeting by. He had come closer. She could feel his breath. There he was, walking past him, clutching in his left hand the ubiquitous dog eared faded brown leather bag inside which she knew would be the keys to the bar and a few paper bills.

His free hand was about to fall on the door handle. She knew it was now or never. And went in for the kill.

“You know Arti, my school friend? lives in America …came down for our wedding.”

He slowed, just a wee bit, but did not stop.

From where she was positioned, to his right, she could not catch much though she could see his eyes were, as ever, expressionless.

“Yes”, what about her”. She detected an impatience in his tone.

“She has finally got her green card…is going to America tomorrow. Wants me to spend the night at her place… is sending in her car”. It all came out in one breath.

Her heart suddenly turned heavy, real heavy, as if a ten tonne brick had landed on it. She could feel blood flowing through her veins. She steadied herself, bobbing her head against the wall. Suddenly, she felt a dizziness in her head.

Life seemed to have come to a standstill. After what seemed like an eternity, all that came out of his mouth was

“When?”

His hands were now on the door knob.
She knew there was no time for niceties. She had to be fast.

“What when? I have left the spare keys in your bag”. Somehow, she managed to keep her voice steady.
The hands had prized open the door and he was now on his way out.

“When will you be back? And what about dinner?”, he hissed just as the lift doors opened.

Dinner! Stupid asshole… was worried about who would serve him dinner.

Just as the lift doors slammed shut, she rammed in the final words.

“Ranjana will come in. I have told her to prepare chicken biryani.”

They were lost, or at least the last few as the lift raced downstairs.
She waited for two more seconds to hear as the lift doors, three below, slammed open one more time.

He was out__out of the house, out of the colony, and out of her life for the next whopping twenty four hours of her fucking life.

Her body shook at the realisation, and she let out a loud squeal.

At that instant the phone rang. She heard where it came from, aimed and leapt at one go. Even before her lithe frame crash landed into the innards of the leather sofa, her hands had picked up the phone, much before the second ring.

“Get undressed, Rishi. I am there in ten minutes”, she panted into the mouthpiece as a slow wetness began to form somewhere deep inside her inner legs.

                                                        ***
Hi, Thanks for stopping by. Hope you liked this story.
This is part five (5) of my ongoing FICTION SERIES ENTITLED  “A FAIR AFFAIR”.
I wrote this as part of Ronovan Writes Prompt Challenge ‘A lie is told’.

3 thoughts on “FRIDAY FICTION with RONOVAN WRITES Prompt Challenge #16-A lie is told.

  1. Tks, that says it all. Hope you liked it. Your comments are most welcome, Ritu

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oooh Great job! The only thing I would recommend for you, is if you add the links to the previous episodes on this post, so that people can enjoy the series together? Very well done. Poor Shefali sounds ready for some freedom. KL 🙂

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: