26th November 2016

Prompt- 'The frail grip of a dying old man' from MiriSaraie

An old record played in the background,

Filling the cabin with her voice.

His chair rocked unerringly to the rhythm,

Smiling at the laughter in her voice.

Soft as a petal and sweet as honey,

Her melodic voice soothed his aching heart.

Her song was like the very air to him,

The only solace, during this long wait,

Till he cross the threshold of life,

To join his beloved on the other side.

The record ticked, filling the room with silence.

His frail fingers reached out ,

Weakly gripping the arm of the gramophone.

Once again she sang for him, like that day

And he closed his eyes, drifting off....