Marriages are made in Heaven
I could hear her whispering on the phone. It was very unlike her. She never used to talk at night. Talking at night was a sin. The light was still on, which was also quite unlike us. We used to sleep like normal people, with lights out and doors shut. Minds closed and weeping soft. We usually slept together — all three of us — My sister, Mom and I. My house had two bedrooms, and one room was occupied by my father. But the three of us have always been together, till this date. We were quite conflicted, yet inseparable. Like three legs of a tripod stand — you can’t tell if we were joined or apart.
It was time to sleep — all lights were switched off, except one.
Maybe the light kept me awake. Maybe the sound of my mother on the phone kept me awake. Maybe it was both. I was trying to fall asleep, that’s for sure. But I couldn’t — maybe it was the unrest and the bitterness in the air. I moved and squirmed. And then I heard her.