The Lady

“Cry son?” a heavy feminine voice throbbed within his hollow head.

“No.. err.. NO!” he replied with his carried away determination.

Pointy dentition and the hypnotic eyes were much more imparting of a darkened ambience: The chipper toddlers repeatedly failed to kill the encasing abstractions.

Age is just one factor that holds right to evict one’s life.

Racing droplets were shunned by extremes laid prior to the hiatus; these tears were left unheard in the dark, dark of his heart.
“She is gone…”

Although built inside limited meetings, the feeling he shared with the lady was probably colored in much more depth than one held by anybody other than his mother (comparable ages of both ladies expectedly heightened the response).
Devoted to “a lady”; may you be blessed with tranquility – forever. Rest in Peace.

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