First Line Friday -August 16th 2017
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After the accident, unease grew like a mold in the corners of his mind.
By Neel Anil Panicker
After the accident, unease grew like a mold in the corners of her mind.
Like a slow moving creeper, its multifarious tendrils enclasped and tightened itself on her, clasping and wrenching the last vestiges of laughter and happiness out of her inner vitals.
With every passing day her agony and helplessness magnified as she sat motionless, confined to her bed, her body and limbs a waste bag of rotten flesh, her hollow stony eyes fixated on the lone door leading out to her bedroom.
From this unprivileged position she watched, utterly helplessly, the passing parade of life.
She watched her husband of over two score decades carry on with life’s myriad duties, rushing in and out of their palatial villa by the sea, barking orders to a litany of servants, attending to video conference meetings with his clients from across the globe, and in between dropping by to feed her delicacies dear to her, ones that he would personally prepare, unwilling to delegate such tasks to the master chef.
And when he would spoon feed him wearing that disarming smile on his gorgeously handsome face she would gratefully accept the offerings.
But long after he would be gone, the sheer vastness of the sand kissed villa would tear down upon her and like massive frothy waves hurtling from the sea, her mind would turn a whirpool of searing doubts.
In no time the doubts and disbelief, the scepticisms and the fears had taken deep roots inside her mindscape, scarring her fast turning psychotic brain immeasurably.
As days gave way to nights and the cycle of life repeated itself viciously,
out of the recesses of her mind crept out her deepest fears, each gnawing and slowly eroding away the very last semblances of sanity.
What if he leaves me, what if he snatches our children away from me, what if he marries another woman? What if…
Every waking hour she turned slave to her tortuous mind, battling unknown ghosts.
It was a losing battle and one that ultimately consumed her own life.
I died the day I lost my legs and hands. This is just me burying the remains, she surmised as she drank to her heart’s content from the bottle of poison.
©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie #372words