Vanishing Act

The air was crisp; nothing moved. It seemed like even the trees had stopped breathing. Neither the leaves, nor the clouds showed any signs of being alive. The orange hue emanating from the fire that crackled in front of her reminded her of him.

The few weeks they were together, she had never once felt like she was alone. Ever since she had moved into an abode of her own, forgoing the her hometown in search of a better life, he was the only one who was truly hers. Unconditional love was just a concept till that fateful day in January.

She was returning from her workplace, rushing to reach home before the clouds burst out. A whimpering noise distracted her and she looked around, trying to identify the source. That was when she saw the little puppy, a dirty looking one, but with remarkable eyes trying to get her attention. She took pity on the thing and brought it home.

It was only when she had finished giving him a warm bath at home and a thorough brushing, that she was satisfied. The little pup slurped up all the milk and biscuits she gave him and looked at her as if he wanted more. She took him into her arms and petted him for the longest time possible. His eyes would become a colour that was something between amber and the orange of a bonfire.

She called him her Fireball, bonfire too at times because that was what his presence did to her. He illuminated her dark nights, provided her warmth on cold nights and made her feel happy and loved.

She often felt like he had adopted her and not the other way.

And then, just like he had come into her life, he went away. Vanished.

One fine day, he was not there in the house that had become their’s from being just her’s. For days she could not fathom how a dog would just walk out on her, but then she found comfort in thinking that he was with someone who needed fixing. Just like he found her when she was lonely and sad, he had found the next person to heal. Her Fireball was continuing to spread its light and warmth.

The air was crisp; nothing moved. It seemed like even the trees had stopped breathing. Neither the leaves, nor the clouds showed any signs of being alive. The orange hue emanating from the fire that crackled in front of her reminded her of him…. her bonny Fireball…

 

My friend LeoΒ and IΒ  are writing on the same theme for the AtoZ2015. The word for the alphabet F that we've chosen is Fire. Thanks for stopping by and do let me know what you thought about my story before you hop away :)Β 
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Writing to me is therapy, it frightens and comforts at the same time. Liberates like nothing else. A book in my own name is a dream, but a bigger dream would be to write something that haunts the reader even after the last page is turned and the book is shut. I enjoy reading and music, spending time with family whilst battling my social awkwardness.

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