Heartless
There was a large bungalow on the
furthest corner of the street. It would always be spick and span with
no trace of dust even in the monsoons. The bungalow had a mulberry
tree. I simply adored those luscious red fruits. Now and then, I would
jump over the fence and pluck them.
Once in a while, I would peep in through the window. Its décor
was fabulous. My child mind would often wonder how it would be to live
in such a house. My own house looked not only tiny, but also untidy.
One day, while I was trying to pluck those mulberries, I heard a
loud shriek followed by continuous wailing. Someone was being hit. I
ran away. In the evening, I heard that the daughter-in-law of the house
was killed in a freak accident. Suddenly, my house appeared large and
well-kept. After all, it had a heart.
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