Hate the living, love the dead.

I stepped out of the shower, dried myself and started dressing when my mobile phone sounded off the alarm. I picked it up and hit the red button to stop the alarm, the screen lightened up and my gaze fell on the wallpaper. 

It was her,in the wallpaper, dressed in a blue top, her hair open (as i like them) and she was smiling. The sun fell on her face and made her face glow even brighter. Her lips drawn in a smile were beautiful. She was wearing a long white skirt, the photo was till knee length. Not that I could not recount the exact color  of shoes she had been wearing that day. I could recall everything , the day, the exact hour and the place . . . . 

And suddenly, my phone began to ring.

It was her.

"Hello" I said.

"Hello, when are we meeting today?" came her wretched voice.

A hateful silence followed.

"Let me call you back" I said in an irritated voice.

Sometimes, I wonder if I will love her perfectly if she was dead. Maybe then, I will love her completely.

                                                         The End.


The End

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