She had often sensed the extended family had a thing against her, though she could not pinpoint the reason behind their continued apathy towards her happiness.
Their cold-shouldering was endurable as long as the disregard pertained to her choice of career, style of dressing, and even her mental sanity, but when they started commenting on her relationship with her husband, it became unmanageable.
Her husband, bound to her by shyly enounced wedding vows many years ago, and love that had grown ever since, had always protected her from the woes of the world.
Although she knew her blessed matrimony aroused jealousy in some of the extended family, she thought it was unwarranted that they mask their true colours by looking at her suspiciously and proclaiming her marriage as dead.
Little did they know that every bedtime, when she had silenced the world’s judgment of normalcy and bereavement, he came to her in her dreams, rising from his funeral pyre to hold her close to his heart.
* * *
Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week, Lillie McFerrin posts a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate can write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in the five sentences, and is just for direction. This week: BEDTIME.
Now every Friday on Saddi Delhi.
Of Paneer, Pulao and Pune 