The Enemy

by M.H.D.S. Dharshanapriya

It was a gloomy day, prevailing clammy weather throughout. After a hard days work, I made my best effort to find a seat in the bus, by pushing one or two passengers out of my way, with my weight.

Then I saw him, and sat in front of him, having no choice. Some imminent trepidation lurked within me, in case he could easily manipulate me while being behind me. Helplessly trapped, I hoped for a speedy journey.

What was he doing here?

I could see her tears and could feel their moisture.

“It was really a mistake” that was all what she had said about him, and I took her word and went on to marry her.

A sense of semblance of foreboding enveloped me. Is our peaceful life, at stake?

Suddenly, a hand from behind brushed my neck, closing the shutter hurriedly. Dreadfully helpless, despite the cold, I sweated profusely. What next?

I nonchalantly turned and glanced back.

“It is raining” a pleasant old lady, said smiling.

I tried to look through the shutter; instead I saw my own reflection staring at me.

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M.H.D.S. Dharshanapriya is a writer living in Sri Lanka.