Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Zora's Story - Conclusion


She was alone, but always had stacks of case files to read, letters to write, legal documents to pour over as she nursed her single glass of Cabernet every evening.  Her only break from the demands of lawyering was her insatiable appetite for good, homemade food.  It helped her a moment to think through her cases as she sliced onions, the water in her eyes cleansing her thoughts.   Many a times, the haze from her clouded thoughts about the strategy of a particular case evaporated as the steam from a pot of soup circled up and disappeared into the exhaust.
The day of her 50th birthday started out as routine.  Long day at the office, meetings with demanding and greedy clients, staring contests in staff meeting to see who blinked first, keeping a straight face as her back ached under the strain of 20 years of high heels.  It was then she remembered her new age.  The half century mark and she was feeling every decade in her low back.
Returning home that evening, she decided to take a break from the files and set about making an elaborate meal of lamb biryani with all the frills of raisins, cashews, saffron and real cream.  For dessert she baked a chocolate cake, a recipe she had not touched since her arrival in New York.  It carried too many memories, but tonight she had resolved to purge all things painful, all things past.
Sitting down late in the evening at the small table with a single candle, she blew out the flickering flame and made no wish.  The ambient lights from outside her apartment imposed on her emptiness as a sudden rush of tears invaded her solace.  She cried until she was drained and felt hollow.  Crawling into bed late and finding sleep just before dawn, she finally snuggled into a fitful slumber.  The morning brought a new day and it was business as usual.
A month went by without incident and the familiar ache visited again one evening, until it became a regular visitor gradually increasing its frequency.
Zora looked back up again at the red and yellow light through her window.  She was getting tired of entertaining this unwelcomed visitor.  People were noticing the changes as her quick wit and sharp retorts took longer and adversaries began to foam at the mouth ready to pounce at a moment’s chance.  She started looking at the faces around the conference table as if they were real men, not vultures.  She delayed returning to the apartment seeking company among friends, but she had no real friends in this concrete jungle she called home.
There was only one friend she can call on.  She was dearer to her than her family, but it had been 21 years.  Whether Diya will welcome her with open arms, Zora was unsure, after all that had transpired years ago.
 
The End

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