Tuesday, 23 June 2009

The CLove Story

It was almost as if she held a bonsai sun in her hand. It glistened with a traditional touch and a rather incandescent glow. For her, all that glitters was gold. A tepid smile left her face as the pretty pair of earrings glanced back with antiquity. Crestfallen inside, she lay it down on the counter.

Were somethings just not meant to be?

Flushed cheeks and teary eyes kept her committed. There was no letting go after coming this close. Her patient sister-in-law carefully pushed the tiny black spice into her ear as she shuddered in pain. An old aunt while picking out thin-stemmed cloves, yarned into a story about a detailed account on ear hole caretaking during her childhood.

Pushing, pain, cream and clove- it was finally in her ear. Those earrings had no better place than on her ears she thought.

Hopefully it is just a matter of a week that I’ll have to fit spices in my ears until they’re ready enough to entertain thick stick antique jewelry.

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