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Rated: E · Short Story · Personal · #2179783
A man escapes into memory.
Journey

It has been a long time since I go out of my place. Mostly I confines myself in my house. In this age of seventy, it is better to say that I lost my enthusiasm to explore the outer world. I find more satisfaction in recollecting the things past, barely I get time to engage in any other meaningful things. But don't think I am alone in my house. It is a big joint family, including my children and grandchildren. I can't name every body. But my room is a cozy one upstairs , with a window opening to the rubber groove behind. Every evening I would be supplied with a small bottle(180 ml) of rum, which I enjoyed much. But ,on Saturdays and Sundays it was not supplied by my son, may be ,he thinks consuming every day make me addictive and unhealthy. So Mondays were more beautiful.My thoughts would be soaked in memories and then it would become weightless and would start to fly.

Grandchildren fear me. Actually, I love them, but giving more freedom is not good for me for children are a rare breed who know very well to exploit the freedom and disturb the provider.So when they come near I would hoarse my throat and distort my scarred face.Servants enter my room only once in a week.


So I was alone and enjoyed the solitude there with the reminiscent blowing wind from the rubber groove and the pungent smell of alcohol oozing from the used bottles.


That is why I am a lost man, on hearing this news that we are shifting from this house to the new one in the city. I am losing my last resort, the shell of memory for ever.


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