Monday, February 17, 2014

The last brick

Sharmila's house was built
Brick by boring brick
Over the period of a year and a half
They had painstakingly picked out
The eggshell taupe for the walls
The oystershell nightlights
The crackled porcelain drawerpulls
The crystal chandeliers
And upgraded from tile to white marble
When it had almost been too late
Had it not been for an indulgent foreman
Who wrote a note to the shop
Saying he was not satisfied
With the quality of the supplies
And asked for a refund
Which they honored

It stood in its grandeur
A shelter from the elements
A testament to industry
And upward mobility
But it couldn't stand the pressure
From within
As it exploded one day
From the echoes of a silent scream
Pent up so long in Sharmila's soul
It shattered every gleaming window
The stemware
Every lamp every light
Every piece of ornately carved furniture
Each beating heart in its ineffectual ribcage
And then every brick
Of the once stately manor

That last brick lies on the ground
An epitaph to what could have been
A happy home

                                                                                               ~  Sonali

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