Secrets have always been part of our lives. Some things are best kept a secret. Especially as people grow older, they are more conscious about things like their age and wage. Secrets are usually shared between a tight-knit group of people, a trust circle if you get my drift. We’ve all heard or said the phrase “I won’t tell anyone” and the usual aside “except for my best friend” when dealing with secrets.
The balloon seller, walked down his usual paths, selling his wares, in his usual way:
Get these balloons for all the good children And not for those, who break stuff and away run. Come ye. Come all. Get these balloons from me and gift it to your boys and girls who have a good story
And his usual way, unfortunately for the parents, was alongside schools and parks. On hearing his song, children would look at their parents for a judgement of behaviour. And in order to pacify them, the fathers and mothers would buy balloons for their children.
The old man stood as if he was confronting the headstone. The grave was of a girl who had passed away in her youth. Her name brought back memories that were stained with the pain she had wrought onto him. He remembered it like yesterday: her advances, his refusal, and the consequent betrayal.
As I walk I notice a horse trotting on the farm. The farm boy was running away, jumping over a fence. I squinted and I saw an unconscious figure on the ground. It struck me that this was the local postman and his horse. With roads like the ones in our village, it made sense to use a horse to deliver the post. Help was on its way as the farm boy ran in the direction of the local hospital.
A disclaimer: This is a purely fictional post. Partly inspired from Hamlet, though. Any other similarity with characters living, dead or created would simply be co-incidental. Point Included Later: And this is the first part of the series. The links to the next parts can be found below.
Thoughts of suicide have been haunting me for quite some time. Actually, I’ve been bringing those thoughts inside my head. Ever since I was framed for fraudulent practice in my institution. I have always been a high flier. But jealousy probably made her accuse me and get me debarred from the university.