I watched her as she struggles to climb out of
the well, her hand all bloody with the torn finger nails; her moans sounded
like chimes on a slow summer day.
As she crawled to the bottom rung of the ladder, my shot shattered it and she fell back with a cry half of desperation and half of fear.
She looked at the projecting stones of the old well and then at my encouraging smile.
My laughter echoed as the stones I had loosed earlier slipped out of her grip and hit her feet.
She looked at me and cried “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?”
“Because it is fun!” I answered while slipping the cover back into place.
As she crawled to the bottom rung of the ladder, my shot shattered it and she fell back with a cry half of desperation and half of fear.
She looked at the projecting stones of the old well and then at my encouraging smile.
My laughter echoed as the stones I had loosed earlier slipped out of her grip and hit her feet.
She looked at me and cried “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?”
“Because it is fun!” I answered while slipping the cover back into place.
PS: Tafreeh is the Urdu word for fun.
This post was originally published at The 6S Social
Network
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