PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy
By Neel Anil Panicker
Sheeba craned her neck as her eyes bored holes into the sky. Somewhere, from behind the skein of silvery white, she knew, she believed to be so, watched her Steve, the one who was now one with the stars.
‘Look my love. Revenge has happened. Vikram, the man who snatched you away from me, is today my slave. I have him in shackles. There he remains, locked in our underground basement, his arms and legs chained to a steel door, condemned to living death.’
A tear dropped her eye.
She looked up and whispered. ‘Until we meet next, my love.’
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