The Six Sentence Cue of the Week is….pickle
…OF PICKLES AND DEADENED MEMORIES
By Neel Anil Panicker
Memory is a harsh bitch that refuses to leave long after it’s expiry date.It comes unheralded when one least expects or desires for. For Liza, the gateway to her memories are manned by pickles.
Like a massive dam that one can no longer rein in, they finally burst out, drenching her to the gills.For a long time she swam in its waves, cruising through the crests and troughs of past happenings, remembering, forgetting, and re-remembering small, intimate, delectable tidbits, random musings and snapshots flushed out from the attics of a long deadened past.
And then they stopped, suddenly and as quickly as they had come, leaving her furiously famished__ for love, her mother’s love, for the touch of supple fingers on a small child’s head, for the taste of coastal food, for fish, deep fried and blood red, it’s innards little fillets garnished with the paste of over a dozen hot spices, and then for pickle, bitter mango pickle, her mother’s special, and her childhood weakness.
Overwrought, Liza slipped on her negligee, tiptoed out of her room, and walked towards where the kitchen was, her movements guided by the moon’s rays that ricocheted off the high ceilinged roof tops and clashed against the glassed chandeliers, breaking into tiny shards of brilliance illuminating her pathway.
In no time she was in the large, hall sized kitchen, her hands on the sill, opening and closing a million glass tumblers.Sugar, salt, cardamom, cinnamon, pepper, apple pie…she finds them all but what’s missing are the pickles, her mother’s special pickles, the one that she made on her own and the one that Liza cried for and demanded again and again like the stubborn, spoilt child that she was__a frail ten year old slip of a girl, a girl with pony tails and her mother’s heart beat.
There she stood, bereft and lonesome, staring into nothingness, grieving, craving, lusting for pickles, simply unable to fathom that the past is but a storehouse of long dead if not buried memories.
#neelanilpanicker2017 #fiveofdangerouslove #dangerouslove#fiction#words334
For PART ONE
For PART TWO:
PART THREE: https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/neelwritessundayphotofiction03ofdangerouslove30072017/