She slipped a coin out of her bag ,with a cluttering emotions on her face,I can see the jagged lines which run across the forehead and the clutched lips which had many untold stories of horror to be shared.
With forced smile towards me she flipped the coin with her crippled fingers that drip sorrows of her life.
I plunged on to the coin with a mischievous grin unknown of the fact that the coin is camouflage with some answers and hopes of getting heads or tails.
I always use to watch her flip a coin when she is stuck between brain and heart. I have realised that when you are confused flip a coin because while the coin is in air you realize which one your hoping for.
Either sides define the truth or Denial but the third side defines our hope.she always clinged for the hope ,other sides didn catch her conflicts.
She used to place her warm fingers over the surface of cold edged silver coin with thousands of thoughts flipping across her embryo.
Dragging the coin over the table surface
I listen to indefinable screech ,waiting for the coin to flip and the series of tunes following the flinging of coin made me more happy than ever.
She was never built on distress but had a flame of fire in her eyes which can overcome all her fears. Her wrinkled face pronounced her journey of stress and betrayel ,her drooping eyelids have witnessed strong battles.
Still, in memory of her injuries she flips a coin from her treasury like a obsession ,hoping to debate with possibilities giving it an everlasting spin.