NEAR THE LAKE
Near the lake i lay down under the dense tree which is near the lake the whether was Sunny warmer in spring the golden brown leaves sunlight fell like an embrace of the unknown a warm hug full of hope and peace she sat near by me picking up the rocks and throwing into the lake ..... Her mouth shut eyes plum dry ... Her knees close to her chest slowly throwing rocks into the lake she was there , there to be seen at child full of support yet no support to lean , wearing white cardigan on a pail skin seem too fragile despite carry a fire within ....she is a child , a child full of stories she spoke no words I listened carefully ..
The silence between us wasn’t empty—it was soft, soothing, sweetly warm, like the golden glow of the setting sun. I sat beside her, watching as she tossed rocks into the lake, each ripple stretching outward like an unspoken thought. I counted the stones as they left her fingertips, but more than that, I counted the moments—the quiet, the closeness, the quiet kind of warmth that needed no words."......
she created holes (patches) near the pond where some rocks were absent(it's her habit)... they sunk, sinked under the deep blue despite being so tough they sunk right through then she spoke breaking The silence through her soft words
" have you ever drowned" she asked
I said " I have.... when I went for my first dive thinking it might be the end , the water filled my chest upto to the lungs .. as I stared down into that blue abyss "
" might be thrilling " she said
" It was but not in a good way " i spoke
Then she stopped for a while seems to be in a deep thpight and spoke
" wanna drown together"
" Kidding "she said
I had a huch if I had said yes the scenerio would've been different... then she went to her side quest of throwing rocks, after some time had passed a strange thought came to me ..
I don't know why but I wanted to experience how drowning felt ..again ....and there I went deep down holding lakes's grass at the bottom.
"From the depths of the lake, I could see her feet near the water’s edge—a quiet, melancholic presence sitting still. The lake had swallowed me whole, its emptiness stretching endlessly around me. Yet, in its silence, the weight on my shoulders faded, dissolving into the abyss.
When I surfaced, I found her again. That blockhead had scattered countless patches near the lake, yet she kept tossing more as if trying to fill an unseen void. I considered hurling one at her head—but held back. Instead, we walked home together, side by side, lost in our own worlds. A barrage of thoughts seemed to race through her mind; she was there, yet somewhere else entirely.
"What’s your favorite color?" I asked, breaking the silence.
"Yellow," she said simply.
She turned to me. 'And yours?'
"Yellow," I replied.
And from that day onward, I never saw yellow the same way again."
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