‘Truth’

she sighed

looked up

turned her head

held a steely stare

spelt each sound

‘if- I -said- the -truth

you- wouldn’t- be- able -to -bear- it’

and smiled

bitter saccharine

dipped in sarcasm.

The fan blades whirred slowly

the curtains swayed

yes, no, neither

as if trying to look innocent.

Even the lampshades

turned their heads

dull eloquent stares

fixed stead -fastedly on the ceiling.

The evening sky blushed red

the breeze took a break

the room grew on him

stifling what was left

‘Truth!’

he muttered beneath his breath

stamping his foot

his ego

years of upbringing

class and sophistication

suppression of himself

turned and walked away.

Many minutes later

at the dinner table

they sat on either ends

chomping food loudly

talking to shadows

the fan blades

tried their best

to quieten the flame

‘will it implode or explode?’

‘morning will tell’

the night sky smiled.