Sing A Song, Sing Along.

He sat on his bed, legs hanging out, a toe on each foot touching the floor. He watched the dust particles float in the beams of the midday sun pouring into his room through the gaps between the curtains. He looked to his left and saw his shades. He picked them up and got up to leave but plopped back into bed, with his pillow filling the space on either side of his head.

He stared up at the ceiling and then closed his eyes and breathed out.

“Hey, singer!”, she had teased, the previous afternoon. 

“Hey, song.”, he had smiled back. ‘That was good’, he had thought to himself and she had smiled with a raised eyebrow, in agreement. 

He opened his eyes and his pupils shrunk in response to the light in his room. He had to see her again.

He opened his eyes for real this time and fought back, against the darkness that was engulfing him. From above his face, a doctor shone a torchlight into his eyes and his pupils shrunk again. He wasn’t going anywhere, any time soon.

The motorcycle tester was back on the track a week later and when he returned to the garage after a test run, he parked the bike, took off his helmet and kissed it. He then looked over to her. She smiled so bravely for him but he was not blind, just a little bald for now. He walked over to her and kissed her forehead.

“Hey again, song.”, he smiled.

“Hey yourself, singer.”, she blushed.

biker piggyback

 

Courtesy: moto0cross.tumblr.com

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