children

All this while the child was looking into a mirror which only reflected its true self inside out. The starry gaze was mainly because the glass was an unknown substance which shone in a peculiar way. The mother refused to believe that the 8 month old could even recognise anything by looking into it. She broke the glass with her fist and metallic bangles to deny herself the narcissistic pleasure of being watched by her only child. When her husband walked into the room all he saw was orange pieces and little sparkles of mercurial life. The baby giggled at its mother’s antic. The mother had a satisfied yet a fearful look on her face. When her man pleaded to know what was going on the only answer he got was the trickle of water from her eyes and the wild gaze from his child. He put his hands around his wife and tried to comfort her. He knew she was boiling underneath. Yet, he stroked her hair and slowly walked her out of the room and made her sit on the sofa in the living room. He went inside again and lifted the baby off its tiny bed and brought it to its mother. He poured a glass of orange juice and drank a sip. He extended his hand in offer to his wife who looked at him blank. Undeterred by her look he made her drink slowly sip by sip. Her zombie like appearance and the baby’s gurgle brought him back to reality. He begged forgiveness to the lord for his foolish behaviour. The lord pushed the white button to keep him from running away. He stayed. Later, he strayed. His wife estranged herself from him and the child too. She had decided to live on. Her now ex-husband loved her decision. He wished her well. He married the woman he really loved and took good care of the child. The child grew up to be an actor. He shot to fame. He was shot by his mom.