The Chronicles of April Levesque...III
Hola compañeros!
So here's the third part of the series. Enjoy! You can read the previous parts here.
She extracted the heavy trolley bag from the deserted and dusty store room, which was more of a memory dump yard. She mopped up the filth enveloping the bag. She diminished the sliding door of the wardrobe to expose lavish gears. Her timber cubbyhole ranged from all brands of business suit to evening gowns to dresses to casual to swim-suits. A month! How many clothes would she cram under the Lycra dossier! Glaring the mile-long collection for a while, she plucked two evening gowns, two pairs of jeans, a couple of shorts, ample tees and shirts and a pair of swim-suit. She thought it to be enough. After all how much for sojourning alone! She felt proud to have remembered to pack the evening gowns. Surprise invitations, she thought, very much like Chief. She walked into the adjoining en suite and took out enough toiletries for herself. She unwillingly prisoned each item with care in the dossier. Why am I even going?, she thought, I can still refuse. She felt like being compelled by an undefinable force to go there. She wasn't wishing to push herself in a cauldron full of questions regarding him and some her own inner doubts. She got into bed early knowing the wee hours in which her flight was to take off.
She sauntered towards the book store, hounded a couple of books and a few magazines. She thought of procuring a tour-guide too. But then she was hit by the realization that she wasn't new to the city. She knew Wels like the back of her hand. The sheer thought sent cold shivers down her spine. She sat at a coffee shop swallowing the contents of the novel she decided on declaiming first. She couldn't pull his face out of her mind. Their first encounter, so naive she'd been where men were concerned, or was it just him. It wasn't that she never had seen princely men before. But he was the simply gorgeous. She reminisced how breathless she'd felt the first time she lay her eyes on him. Their conversation on their very first dinner was still ripe in her memory. The fact that she felt helpless and hysterical whenever she dreamt of him open-eyed, pushed her over the saturation echelon. Just when she was on the verge of crushing the frappé container to nothing, she heard the flight announcement coming to the glass's rescue.
She'd never felt her nerves screeching before like this. She never vacillated before pulling the trigger. Why now?, she demanded. "Get over it! It's just a darn vacation!" She literally imploded her heart to stop thudding that hard, lest she'd explode.
So here's the third part of the series. Enjoy! You can read the previous parts here.
She extracted the heavy trolley bag from the deserted and dusty store room, which was more of a memory dump yard. She mopped up the filth enveloping the bag. She diminished the sliding door of the wardrobe to expose lavish gears. Her timber cubbyhole ranged from all brands of business suit to evening gowns to dresses to casual to swim-suits. A month! How many clothes would she cram under the Lycra dossier! Glaring the mile-long collection for a while, she plucked two evening gowns, two pairs of jeans, a couple of shorts, ample tees and shirts and a pair of swim-suit. She thought it to be enough. After all how much for sojourning alone! She felt proud to have remembered to pack the evening gowns. Surprise invitations, she thought, very much like Chief. She walked into the adjoining en suite and took out enough toiletries for herself. She unwillingly prisoned each item with care in the dossier. Why am I even going?, she thought, I can still refuse. She felt like being compelled by an undefinable force to go there. She wasn't wishing to push herself in a cauldron full of questions regarding him and some her own inner doubts. She got into bed early knowing the wee hours in which her flight was to take off.
She sauntered towards the book store, hounded a couple of books and a few magazines. She thought of procuring a tour-guide too. But then she was hit by the realization that she wasn't new to the city. She knew Wels like the back of her hand. The sheer thought sent cold shivers down her spine. She sat at a coffee shop swallowing the contents of the novel she decided on declaiming first. She couldn't pull his face out of her mind. Their first encounter, so naive she'd been where men were concerned, or was it just him. It wasn't that she never had seen princely men before. But he was the simply gorgeous. She reminisced how breathless she'd felt the first time she lay her eyes on him. Their conversation on their very first dinner was still ripe in her memory. The fact that she felt helpless and hysterical whenever she dreamt of him open-eyed, pushed her over the saturation echelon. Just when she was on the verge of crushing the frappé container to nothing, she heard the flight announcement coming to the glass's rescue.
She'd never felt her nerves screeching before like this. She never vacillated before pulling the trigger. Why now?, she demanded. "Get over it! It's just a darn vacation!" She literally imploded her heart to stop thudding that hard, lest she'd explode.
*
Eleven hours of non stop flying didn't do her back or sleep much justice. All she craved for was to reach her hotel and slaughter the mattress with her encumbrance. She gasped at the sudden look of the place. Was she going to be REALLY staying here? She gathered that the place seemed no less than a castle. On approaching the room, all she could acknowledge was the view from the ostentatious glass. She suddenly didn't feel that sleepy any more. She thought that it'd be best to escalate the town rather than her bed. She unpacked and entered her en suite and allowed the cold water to run down her slender body. Walking into the wardrobe, she picked out a pair of shorts and a shirt to go with it. She left her curls of her tresses bucketing for them to set naturally. Just a hint of perfume, her wallet, phone, camera and travel bag, and she was on her way to rock and roll. She had loved the lanes when she'd been here the last time. Photography was something that came naturally to her, and what more? She was absolutely loving each moment. She eyed an art gallery on the nose of the road. Quite unlike her, she wished to visit it. The gallery was ecstatic and so were the paintings. She witnessed a cluster of people. Cogitating that they might be acknowledging some genius work, she moved to join the herd. On nearing the area, she could hear a typical voice, a very typical voice! She felt her heart intimating to it. She knew that voice. The vibrations of it rung an alert in her mind. She saw him from a distance. Dumbstruck, she couldn't fathom her eyes. She couldn't convince her heart that it was him. She turned on a tiger's prowl and exited the place. She walked as far and as fast as she could. She didn't want to relive what she had a few moments ago. She only prayed that he didn't discern her. And she swore to herself. Leaning against the wall, she experienced her past, their past, running like a film in her mind. He cannot know. He shouldn't know!, she thought. She's left with some unanswered questions and unfulfilled vows. She scampered to the hotel pondering to the disbelief that some sleep might take things off her mind. She lay still, glaring the ceiling.
It had been a boiling night when she saw him. She was on her mission...
To be continued.
See you fellas.
Till then, tener cuidado.
You are really good at this :)
ReplyDeleteBadia tha, waise or kitne prts likhne ka irada hai??
Humaam! No idea. As long as I can spin the story. But there are surely going to be a lot of them!
ReplyDeleteHumaam! No idea. As long as I can keep the story spinning! But there're surely going to be a lot of them!
ReplyDeleteNo. of prts dun matter.
ReplyDeleteJust make em intrsting ;)
I intend to do just that!
Delete