Bitter Taste Of Heaven

Bitter Taste Of Heaven

Your mother rings your mobile phone asking to see you as soon as possible. She is bedridden and not able to walk around and fears her end is near.

She has also put calls across to your siblings as she made you understand.

You are torn between the love and devotion to your wife who earlier put a call across to you pleading that you bring her a file that is needed for a meeting in her office and the love and care you owe your mother who gave birth to you; still torn, you rush into the living room and grab your car key and zoom off.

‘I will take through the junction which will lead me to my wife’s office and then my mother’s abode’, you say to you still sane self.

As you drive on, your mind roves here and there, you think of your dying mother and prays she lingers on, you wish herlife life at least for some more years, by then you will be ready to take the news of her death as a man as the society expects.

It is not an easy task because though in your late thirties, you are still tied to the apron of the breast that you suckled.
What if she dies today, what would you do?
You scream a heavy no to silent your wild thoughts.
Fearing your thought is beginning to rove to far, you seek a diversion but this time only to remember you had forgotten the file needed by your wife.

You hit the steering hard and screams ‘ouch’ so loud it hurt your ears.

You reverse and head back home. The potholes unfriendly, constantly reminding you of how forgetful you had been.
Cuss words fly out of your mouth like they permanently reside there. You almost forget the last intersection before the last bend that leads to your house.

You swerve sharply, parking in front of the house, you rush into the bedroom where she said the files would be. You pick it up and rush off.

You drive into the major road soon to hit the flyover, looking ahead you see a slight traffic brewing up ahead.
You decide against climbing the bridge, so you drive slowly below. Your mind travel once again to your mother and her health. You remember her hay days as much as you recall her voice and with the much gusto with which she tells the story.
Your mind flips over to your wife. Something tickles you as you remember the words earlier this morning as she leaves for work.

You remember the first day your paths crossed and a wry smile washes across your face. You decide to steal a glimpse of her beautiful face once again on your phone screen.
She is your wallpaper and usually has that special effect of taking you to heaven while steal on earth.

Today you want a slice of heaven, you munch on it with your eyes and from nowhere you hear shouts, before you could turn your head around to the direction of the shout, you see the eyes of pedestrains looking up to heaven like the messiah is ascending.
Your eyes follow theirs all you could see is a tanker loaded with petroleum product falling from the over head bridge.

As you made to run, you realise a seatbelt is holding you down, on your right hand is your phone with your wife’s smiling face reminding you of heaven as the tanker lands on you in all of its might.

10 thoughts on “Bitter Taste Of Heaven” by Maureen Alikor (@Wailingink)

  1. A very good story, I love it. I love a second person POV stories.

    Few errors though: “She is your wallpaper and usually has that special effect of
    taking you to heaven while steal on earth.”

    I believe you wanted to write “still” instead of “steal”

    Beautiful story, well done.

    1. Thank you very much. I love the second person POV stories too, I am trying to get better at it.
      Forgive my errors, I will be careful next time..

  2. A really beautifully written tale. But then, there were spelling errors. I suggest you take your time in checking up what you’ve written before it gets posted. I loved it. Keep writing.

    1. Thank you, forgive my errors. I will be careful next time.

  3. beautifully interwoven… the worries of life. Thumbs up!

    1. Thank you for stopping by.

  4. It’s a lovely piece

    1. Thank you. Really.

  5. The penultimate paragraph is absolutely fantastic! Kudos!

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