The Bubble

A dull and constant silence enveloped her. She felt at once both peaceful and secure. Even within that bubble she feared the inevitable prick. She awaited patiently for the phone which she was holding to her ear to cackle; her eight month old son lying on his belly on the plastic chattai just a few feet away to resume his cooing as he played with the bright red fire truck with it’s glowing amber beacon; her husband who was keeping a watch on the daal which she had left simmering on the gas stove for the evening’s supper to send out a clanging of steel utensils and lids on the granite counter top.

Her bubble held it’s form much longer, or so it seemed to her. None of the interruptions she expected occurred. Instead, it was time which gently dawned her senses to her surroundings. She became aware to the sound of the voice of her friend and ex-colleague who had called her on her mobile. Her mind was made fully aware of the present by her eyelids just like a fluorescent tube-light when switched on flickers a couple of times before shedding it’s brilliance. Her boss was dead! The person she admired the most, the person she respected the most, the person she estimated as the most intelligent and most hard working, was gone. But how could that be? She had just spoken with him yesterday and they had discussed next week’s plan of action. She was to continue developing the technology prototype for navigtaional routing. He said that he had himself studied the tools and documentation and assured her that the task was within her sphere of abilities. It was such assurances and directions she felt most comfortable to work under his guidance. Their decade long association implied the unstated. She could approach him anytime she hit a roadblock without any fear of chiding.

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