He called out for her for, for his morning tea. She was neither to be seen nor be heard. But he was yet to know about the wreck.

The wait would not be long now, she thought as she saw him walking towards the open glass doors of the balcony. And there, he saw her body drowning in a pool of blood. Panic struck, he rushed and checked her breath.

‘Oh my god. What could have happened?’

Helplessness engulfed her as she heard his faint voice. Choosing a cozy corner, she witnessed the events happening like a fast forward motion picture.

Kids arrived. Weeping, mourning, and grieving followed.

As they emptied her remains into the flowing waters she felt free. She found a free and safe passage into her slice of heaven. Discording herself with the bondages shared, mustering her courage, she set onto a lonesome journey.

Sailing through a kaleidoscope of changing colours and patterns, she realized she had lived in a deceptive momentary world. Apart from her body, from herself, there was another important element, her soul, the only identity that seldom was thought about.

The soul, indestructible and eternal, transgressed blissfully in absolute harmony with the universe.

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