Warm Wetness

On a sunny winter afternoon, a drop of sunlight fell on her lap. Its warm wetness reminded her of him.

She could fight the tears but she could not drive away the wave of nostagia. She could not forget the time he wrapped his arm around her neck in a moment of eternal bliss. She could not forget his eyes staring unblinking into her's, a picture of pre-mordial calmness. She could not forget the magic in his smile, an ecstasy lost in centuries of uncivilization. She could not forget the gentle clasp of his hand, the unfathomable love.

Caught in the web of his memories she tried to forget the night when he'd slept on her lap. And wetted her sari. Its warm wetness reminded her of him. She had fondly named her son 'Surya'.