Here’s my entry for this week’s tale – 3 Line tales
She had forgotten all about that exciting week in Paris where she felt one with herself, free-spirited and full of hope inspired by all the artists, museums and most of all, her time with the charming young French poet she fell in love with.
The smell of children’s socks had replaced the fresh baked goods smell from the boulangeries, the screams of her husband had replaced the poets tender rhymes, the callouses on her hands from the chores had replaced the feeling of soft silk dresses she wore in Paris.
But today, as her youngest daughter took off for college, she visited her husband’s grave one last time, bid her farewell and as she began to drive away, she looked back one last time at this city which she was planning to leave forever to chase a dream that was breathed to life again by the letter in her hand that contained the following words – “J’attends toujours mon amour*”
*I am still waiting my love
(c) Sneha Pathak