Interpretation

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: June 15, 2016

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Submitted: June 15, 2016

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He could see words,
but could not read what she had written.
A paragraph was as difficult as deciphering
telegraph dots for the first time. Cluelessness
was washed all over his face.

"Honey, what is this?" he asked.

"A letter written for you," she replied.

She could tell from his face he couldn't read
the language of the heart. She had to make him
understand.

Collected every word and every letter,
minced them up in her thoughts,
and read them aloud to him.

He was devastated. The clues were all there standing
right in front of him; a suitcase and cold hands.

She was leaving him. They didn't speak the same language...



© Copyright 2017 Teddy Kimathi. All rights reserved.

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