An evening outside village

[ A little piece of fiction ]

The last bullockcart full of his dear ones has passed and the dust is now finally settling on the road next to the cremation ground. His pire has reduced to ambers and a few dying flames. A soothing darkness is ensuing after a long, hot day of summer. All that's left there is: two dogs on the ground and two eagles hovering above.

The hands that lifted the load of the world till yesterday, quietly burnt away this afternoon. The brain that held so many beautiful thoughts, just evaporated this afternoon. The heart that beat so strongly, and bathed in waves of emotions his entire life, turned into mere charcoal this afternoon.

This afternoon, the death oblirated his entire life, along with the dreams of his and his loved ones. In matter of few fast hours everything was destroyed so ruthlessly that nobody had time to feel the pain or caress their wounds. All they could do is to just curiously stare at the gaping ugly holes that were left behind in their hearts and minds.

Meanwhile the silent cart was disappearing in the dark searching for the lights of the village. In the cart, what started as a small wrinkle on his son's lips has become an involuntary trembling of his entire mouth. There's unvoiced despair building up in his breath and the throat is getting chocked. Tears are desperately holding on to his lower eyelids, but any moment now they are going to slide out.

Every mind in the cart seems desperate for seeing signs of life, soon. Some confirmation for their primordial urge to belong to their own bodies and minds. They could not take any more blows from death tonight, not this evening...