She sat cross-legged on the sofa ,her face deadpan,her eyes stony.With a fixed stare ,in a completely impassive state, she sat there for a very long period.Then slowly her eyes moved from one object of the room to another.Her glance as if on it’s own slipped from one artifact to another without registering and acknowledging it.
Then she started surveying the room afresh.This time her glance lingered on every object for fractions of second—heavy ornate brass lamps. big brightly colored vases with expensive artificial flowers ,54 inches LED T.V. on bright orange wall,heavily draped windows and doors with curtains standing like fortress wall as if determined to restrict even a ray of sunlight and whiff of fresh air.
She slowly put her feet down and stood there looking at the surroundings with a somewhat bewildered look on her face as if she was taking note of the things for the first time.Was she surprised to find her there? But for the all these ten years of her married life she was living here only.
She suddenly felt claustrophobic and with that a realization hit her ,she too can feel…..she is not one among these expensive artifacts.

Vishes was right.This can not be her home.She is no where in this house.

With renewed vigor and steadfast steps she moved herself to cross the threshold of his home to build her small green ,airy corner full of light and fragrance .
She plunged into the wide open arms of life.


This was inspired by 365 writing prompts…