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The cold war
#WritcoStoryPrompt123
Start your story about how a single word may bring a fight to an end.
"Sorry" she said..and broke into uncontrollable tears. The long almost never ending fight she had with him, finally ended. That one word "sorry" was all it took to open floodgates of all pumped and locked up emotions that she did not realise that she had been holding back.
He didn't reply to her sorry. He just laid there, shoulders hard, skin cold, a slight smile on his lips, eyes closed, hands folded over his chest. This is how he was most of the days since past few years.
Dementia had gripped his feeble mind. On days he would recognise his daughter , but sometimes she used to be a stranger . When he remembered who she was, those days used to be filled with many a long discussion on their favourite friend "Krishna" and then they would usually end up fighting each stubborn to bow down.
The very next day,he would just ignore her. Well in his mind, she did not exist. She was a stranger. He would then just sit there and stare blankly. If he were in a good mood he would pick up his flute and just play whatever tunes he could play. Sometimes for minutes...
Start your story about how a single word may bring a fight to an end.
"Sorry" she said..and broke into uncontrollable tears. The long almost never ending fight she had with him, finally ended. That one word "sorry" was all it took to open floodgates of all pumped and locked up emotions that she did not realise that she had been holding back.
He didn't reply to her sorry. He just laid there, shoulders hard, skin cold, a slight smile on his lips, eyes closed, hands folded over his chest. This is how he was most of the days since past few years.
Dementia had gripped his feeble mind. On days he would recognise his daughter , but sometimes she used to be a stranger . When he remembered who she was, those days used to be filled with many a long discussion on their favourite friend "Krishna" and then they would usually end up fighting each stubborn to bow down.
The very next day,he would just ignore her. Well in his mind, she did not exist. She was a stranger. He would then just sit there and stare blankly. If he were in a good mood he would pick up his flute and just play whatever tunes he could play. Sometimes for minutes...
