One Hari

 

Faith.

My name breathed so softly in my ear I didn’t bother to open my eyes. I believed it was the breeze, warmed by the rising May sunlight whispering through my window.

Faith. It’s me, your lover.

So long since I had a lover, I had to be dreaming still. That was it, the remnants of my fading dream. I snuggled down into my feather pillow and wished for deeper sleep; to let go of the awareness of the morning light. My blanket lay heavy and warm upon my shoulder, I stretched and settled back to my weekend slumber.

Faith.

I couldn’t ignore it anymore, no matter how soothing it felt. I was alone in the house – or I should have been. Perhaps there was someone calling me from outside the window.

I dragged myself out of the bed and knelt before pushing back the gauze curtains. My nosy neighbour was there watering his roses and waiting for a peek at my silk chemise-covered breasts. He waved. I waved back. No way was he subtle enough to have whispered my name.

I knew it must have been Hari. He was back in my life again.

feather

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