You Create, We Nurture


BLACK – The Color of Love, Passion and Death (Prologue)

And she felt the moist imprint even after he departed his lips from her’s, she feels his warm and masculine hands on her bare skin,slithering like a venomous snake, his hands are dancing to the rhythm of her thudding chest. On a spur of moment, her larynx starts to ache, she is getting short of air, too short to breathe, to live. She fails to understand whether she is dying out of utmost pleasure of love making or she is dying a dark, and numb death. “I might be dreaming. He is with me. My savior, my love,my life” she thought. But the thrust and crush getting deeper, so deeper as if the venom is spreading in her brain through the veins, slashing out every bit of life from her. Agitated limbs movement, shaking hands pulling out the bedspread, a dumb scream and the tempest suddenly comes to a fatal end. He gets down from her, lays by her side, like any other day after their passionate rendezvous of love, and calmly lits his favorite Malana and she lies motionless, cold and peaceful in her eternal dream, just like any other night the white pillow is not under her head, instead it is on her face, crunched and torn……..

Image Courtesy: Rebloggy
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Editorial Team of LaughaLaughi