Shaaf sat alone in the house, nursing his tea. He had been alone since Firdous left him. He did not even remember the time now. The delightful rhythm of drizzle grew into heavy rainfall accompanied by thunder and lightning. Water leaked from the ceiling, soaking the entire kitchen. Shaaf tried to shield his eyes from the flash of lightning when he beheld Firdous outside the door. She held two bags filled with groceries and vegetables.
He shouted for his son, Taariq, to open the door. Had he gone to college or left home already? No, he was still sleeping in the cradle. Shaaf walked out with muddled thoughts.
He plucked a rose on the way. He would propose to Firdous today. He needed to hurry before her cousin got to her. He knew that her cousin had the same intentions. Shaaf fell heavily on the muddy pavement. He was still as petals scattered over his body.
Written for Alastair’s Photo Fiction.