Late-night Heartbreaks

Even though he had decided what he was to do, he found himself on the horns of a dilemma. Should he or should he not. It was way past midnight and there were another three hours before the taxi was to depart.

The airport looked deserted barring the handful late shifters puffing smoke into the dark oblivion of the night. The chilly purposeless breeze lifted the plastic packet from the pavement's edge and was toying with it before the rusted iron grill stamped its authority and snatched it mid-air to hold it in its clutches. The rumble of the airplane taking off was puny compared to the clattering in his head at that moment.He had to act fast, and that meant he had to stop thinking. Things were easier after that and he signaled for a cab.

The neurological workstation went into overdrive again. He envisaged a thousand different outcomes from every word he might say. The anticipation of what might happen half an hour away was killing him. Equally torturing was the thought of what might not. He got off the cab and made his way past the flickering lamp-post. The unrelenting rain a few hours ago and rendered scarred the already muddy path and he had to carefully make his way past the puddles of mud that clutched to the shoes of anyone who passed by like dying lepers begging for alms.

He had reached now and only the doorbell lay between him and who he had set out to see. He could feel an awkward lump in his throat and after taking a couple of minutes to regain his composure, he pressed the little red button.

A minute later he realized, she was not there.