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Tears in Heaven

 

 

Tears in Heaven

 

She sang

tearing the veil of silence that hung heavy in the air –

her newly-betrothed son breathed his last.

She sang

as she hauled herself upstairs and tottered across his room,

she lurched and peeked as she opened the windows and dusted the chest of drawers.

She sang

as she stood and gaped in the glass that once held a handsome face,

as she ran her wrinkled fingers along his peak lapel tuxedo,

as she fumbled with the maple heirloom pendant –

a gift for his bride-to-be.

She sang

as she ambled and hobbled across the once bustling hallway,

rushing in and tumbling, he’d slip out excitedly again –

the hallway filled with his favourite aroma of bacon and bangers,

now reeking of rotten eggs and meat.

She sang

as she stretched her arms out,

as she piteously groped in the dark,

the bags under her sunken eyes

darker than the night before.

Bowed down with weariness,

she slumped on the floor –

the silence hung heavy,

the house remained empty.

 

 

Swati Moheet Agrawal

  

Swati Moheet Agrawal lives in Mumbai, India. Her work has appeared in Ariel Chart, CafĂ© Dissensus, Friday Flash Fiction, Indian Periodical, ActiveMuse, Setu, Kitaab and elsewhere. When not buried between the pages of a book, she likes to dabble in decoupage art. Follow her on Instagram @ swatiwhowrites


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