Micro tales



She picked up the first plate barely tossing it into the sink. The room had shrunk and the walls came close enough to squeeze her thoughts flowing. ‘Mother when i grow up i will never do make up, i wouldn’t want to aggravate the fine lines below and around my eyes. Dont you think you brought the most beautiful child in the world!‘. She would say teasingly, then being only a young adult. Her mother was quite the best friend of ages, they shared so many wordsworth moments. She had always loved their deep conversations as they cultivated a remarkable mutual bond.

She opened the tap as a tear trickled down her cheek. The dam of thoughts had overflown after she had let a crack escape, having no control she was drowning.

It was just after her wedding. ‘Novah, where did you get that’ her mother had retorted one afternoon after she had visited with Him for a get together, ‘its just a spot ‘. She had answered rather uncomfortable. That was just the start however. ‘wow!girl your make up is glowing’ was a compliment from her best friend Sofi. Where she learned to do it so well, no idea, but indeed she was glowing. She had gone out with her friend who was eager to hear all the itsy bitsy details of the cuffed life fresh to say the chained one.

It is wonderful, life is .., and we are doing grea..at!’ she would always stutter trying to find the right words for her short stage play. You would wonder for how long she had planned to keep the scenes going till she cuts the show. She had shackled herself by choice. Thinking she could hide the bruises and the dark eyes with her make up but, as time took its course so did the infliction deepen. As much as her smile covered the sadness, the eyes always gave away the pain.

Her hands ran through the cold water unconsciously, it was cold as his heart she could feel the tingle. Recalling the day he had returned with a furious attack that she had been staying at home and not working, but how could she tell him. How could she tell him that it was from the very whips that he gave her she couldn’t even slide a shoe in her swollen feet. How could she get him to blame himself for being the reason why wearing make up was not enough anymore so she had to heal the bruises first. How could she tell him that her contusions were almost rendering her disable and her heart was almost paralyzed from the breaking.

So she kept quiet, paving empowerement for him to do what he did best. Raining on her with heavy blows and woes of bitter words full of nothing but resentment.

If only she could leave. But she was scared, scared that she wasn’t being a strong woman who let’s go, forgives and perseveres. Scared that the very society that had approved her union would decelerate and make her worth lesser. She was scared her heart had beats for that beast alone so she kept hoping for better days.

And for that she stayed. Day after day, with the blows and tears, chaos and claws, digging and beatings, slaps and whacks. She stayed in her prison.

She gasped as the water flowed to her feet. The sink had crammed full. Closing the tap quickly to let the still water drain, she squeezed some liquid soap on her scrubber. And started working on the plate slowly edge by edge as her thoughts blinded again. Darkness! She couldn’t open her eyes for the first few moments but she tried with the immense pain on her jaws. Slightly she could see a light. The little penetration was just enough for her to figure the whereabouts. A hospital. She turned slowly and by her side was withered flowers with some letters of speedy recoveries from sofi. She wanted to cry but her swollen eyes couldn’t let the tears exude freely. Her little act was over and she had to choose between her life and a shady toxic life.

It has been 32 years since, and she had never for a moment felt the need to revisit her dark memories. They were forgotten, buried actually. Novah’s painful past had only been buried until when her sole daughter who had just been married visited for a get together.

‘Ava where did you get that’, she had asked her earlier on that day, after seeing a black spot on her neck which was revealed when her scarf came off. ‘It’s just a spot’, she had answered rather uncomfortable.


Hey my love, how many times do i have to whine about this. No doing things by yourself’, her husband Glenn suddenly walked in on her…‘come on, let me help’…as he took the scrubber slyly from her and started to work on the plates.

She watched him clean each plate. Her person of love. They had grown old together. He had found her when she was worthless and in pieces but made her whole and priceless.

It shall be well, there is still a hope for Ava, she thought hugging her husband from behind drying her tears on his back. She believed so, for he had found the beauty within her brokenness.