Saturday, March 1, 2014

The Friend Upstairs

I walk these white halls, following this man, who somehow understands my language.

 My short life has been filled with questions, the most intriguing of them walking right in front of me.

 A man who not just understood my urge for hunger or play, but who also could talk to me.

I do not understand, a moment ago, I was a stones throw away from a speeding vehicle, and now I'm in these serene surroundings, and with this equally quaint man.

 Confused, I asked,"Who are you?", to which the tall,thin man with long hair and similarly long beard smiled and said, "Just a friend."

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

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