Sita was late again. She saw the railway track “In a few seconds I can
be free.”
But the milk came rushing to her chest; where she had nestled together the
pain, the joy, and the duty of being a mother.
At home Ram waits with a stick in hand.
Linking this post to The Fiction Challenge: From 15 to 50 January 2015. Hosted by Shailaja V of The Moving Quill.
Image credit here
