Scribbling

“She was lying upon the bed, feeling as empty as that moon in the sky which roams the sky every night, and yet remains unseen for several nights. For they made a rule which says she cannot be seen all the time, but only when she is told to. She must remain behind veil of clouds rest of times, negotiating with her emotion which threatened to expose her on the day of full-moon. She was a rebel, she threatened to cross the mark and there she was, cut loose and thrown in the backyard of the civilized society like those comets, which occasionally appear across the horizon only to raise a little curiosity about them before they get lost in the darkness of space, forever. After-all space was planned by male-gods carefully not to let its intelligence expose them off their little pleasure moments.”