Wednesday 2 January 2019

The dark alleys


My soles made a hard impact on the cobbled pathway affecting the anxious nerves of my 

brain. Trying to keep the slipping purse on my shoulder, I was turning behind to access 

the impending danger. The stranger's pace was quickening. Sensing the  closing distance, 

I made an attempt to increase my strides. Fear pervaded every pore of my being and the 

air around me seemed to be thinning. I gasped for help.

Beads of perspiration broke on my creased brow. My mouth stretched like the Thar desert 

and I ran my tongue onto to the roof of my mouth. I turned around to check my pursuer 

and fell short of stumbling. I gathered myself as I felt the bladder bursting. These 

inconveniences were a speck compared to the mammoth danger chasing me. The street-

lights didn't offer much solace to me. With no soul in sight , my confidence was at nadir. I 

once again turned my head back for the umpteen time. I don't remember how many 

times my neck had rotated backwards. The stranger's outer features shouldn't be 

distinguished . The visor was pulled down intentionally to mask his facial terrain.


                                                   Image result for a man in the dark alleys


A pair of boots walked besides me. The rising palpitations drummed into my ears. The 

body moved from my left side with one swift motion taking a huge step ahead of me and 

came face to face reading the terror in my eyes. My handbag was yanked off as my 

shoulder went numb. His feet made a dash in the cover of the moonless darkness as the 

path forked into two. I could't know which way he disappeared. I was left helpless and 

penniless.

A silhouette came out of the darkness. "Missy , there has been a spate of robberies 

in the district. Deposit your gold chain into this". And he fished out a handkerchief. It 

made sense to my confused scared mind. Hailing a cab which appeared out of Aladdin's 

lamp, he pressed a currency note into my nervous palm and melted away as the wheels 

gathered momentum. I didn't have the time to thank the Samaritan.

I clutched the handkerchief as I rang the bell of my apartment. The piece of cloth felt 

empty. The last vestige of faith evaporated and tore my soul.




                                                      

(Google Image)

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