This is another effort of mine……

The Scribbler

Seeing her lying there, all those needles piercing through her thin pale skin, filled my heart with a pain. She was sensitive to the slightest needle prick, the tiniest thorn on the rose plant. Yet today, she lay, all quiet and expressionless. Slowly the people around her stopped whatever they were doing. Suddenly the frenzy in the room died out. The activities came to a standstill and so did my heart!

I couldn’t stop myself from remembering the time she had got that dreadful fever. Her temperature kept rising high steadily. No medicine seemed to be helping. Her body was exuding heat and her  breath was like a fuming dragons, but she was stubborn about not going to the doctor. The reason? He’d give her the needle. How she hated the injection! She was lucky to have recovered from it. She always credited me for it. Not me really, but…

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