The Best Seller
“It isn’t working out. Never discuss me. Forget I ever existed.”
He was surrounded, constantly torn between what to do and how to present himself. An unknown fear descended upon him. The fear of losing her, of not being able to see her again. Everything seemed to be taking a toll upon him. He wanted to run away, cry his heart out, scream till his lungs would give up. He wanted this to end once and for all. It was the only option left.
He raised his pen. Words were coming out of a man possessed. His breaths synced with movement of the hands. His fingers danced to the melodious tune his heart sang. The storm calmed down by each passing passage. Broken pieces were collected and mended. The paths were visited once again. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he continued pouring his heart out. He finally found solace.
A best seller was born at the minimal cost of a broken promise and a pseudo identity.
A familiar face made it’s way through the gathering. Heartbeats were raised once again. The familiar feeling of sinking resurfaced. Words were hard to come by. He gulped.
“Hey do you remember me?” She spoke softly.
“Yes I do,” he replied, barely audible.
“My daughter is your fan. Can I get an autograph for her?”
He choked. The writer smiled wickedly. The protagonist bled to death.
~ Pranav Pandey | Edited by Afreen Zeb