She got back from work just before dawn broke. Odd timings came as a package deal of having a job she loved. The day had been particularly unforgiving. She had worked a twenty hour shift with an unfading smile on her face.
She unlocked the door as silently as she could, knowing the two men she loved, would be sleeping in peace. One of them met her as she entered, smiling and wagging his tail at the same time. She put her finger on lips, signalling him to be quite, then sat down to meet him. One hug from the old boy and she was already feeling better. Both of them walked in to the cooler section of the house.
She saw him sleep under the white sheets.
The indigo light from the window was making his face glow. His breathing was soft and calm like he was far away in his sleep. She slipped out of her clothes and slipped in beside him. She felt his bare cold skin against hers calmed her soul down. He put his arm around her, still sleeping, now with a smile on his face. He moved comfortably into her space.
She had everything that made her life perfect right there. A content heart, arms that waited for her and the music of the heart she lived in coming from the chest she slept upon.
There is nothing that binds two souls together better than belonging to brotherhood of riders. Being a part of this clan means you are trustworthy and dependable. Most importantly it means you will never leave a brother alone in distress.
Riding alone builds confidence but riding together builds character. You think of the safety of your fellow rider as much as you think of your. Stopping for the aid of a rider with a broken down bike becomes an automated response.
The sight of a bunch of guys in riding gears riding their machines always brings a smile to my face. It’s a definite sign of good times!
One such clan is the Royal Enfielders, each of them has a different story of how and why he picked his ride, but the crazy passionate love for her is common between all of them.
I have seen excited riders who enjoy the thrill, I have seen the slow ones who love the journey more than the destination. I have seen riders lost in thought, making choices of life as the wind hits their face and I have seen happy smiley riders. The one thing I haven’t seen is a rider who is sad.
It’s a brotherhood of happy souls.
P.S. I know a few girls who belong to this brotherhood too or sisterhood if you might! All of them are rockstars!
Photo credit: Harshad Sharma http://www.harshadsharma.com/
I read stories because they make me believe. Stories are fragile, created by balancing words on air with only imagination to hold them together. Stories are confounding, every beginning isn’t clear and all endings aren’t happy. I read cause it fill my mind.
I write stories to make sense of the chaos in my head. I write stories that I live in and the stories live in me. They help me understand, they help me in being understood. There are stories that end too fast and leave me craving, there are the ones that never end, they go on forever even when I stop reading.
Long stories are seductive, they wrap themselves around, like soft velvet as you read, you fall in love and the affair continues. A short story has a different feel to it. Like Stephen King said “A short story is like a kiss in the dark from a stranger”
Stories make the world perfect with words knit together in harmony, making reality palatable by adding a squeeze of fiction to it.
I make my stories, while my stories make me!
Photo credit: Ashutosh Khandkar http://framingreflections.wordpress.com/