The Acquaintance

deepak sharma writes

Image Courtesy – eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com

‘Are you from this place,’ an old trembling voice, asked from behind, forcing Akash to turn around to find out if the question was meant for him.

Akash’s eyes moved from staring at the bright artificial lights enveloping the small town in front, from the hill at least a few thousand feet above, and housing a tiny, forgetful and almost nondescript village to the old man.

The shimmering beauty of the lights and the liveliness of the illumination in the town below prevented Akash from even blinking his eyes, least he misses the ravishing beauty that a night could bring and the man-made brightness could enhance.

A short man balancing himself on a stick, which looked as ancient as him, stared back, his eyes appeared even bigger than they really were behind the thick lenses, and in the light of the bright halogen…

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