Love, Short stories


She took the downward escalator,

and he took the one upwards.

Yet their eyes didn’t meet, for a burly stranger stood in their way.

They stood a few shoulders away from one another just this New Year’s Eve at the Times Square.

And then too, were they both unaware of the presence of the other.

Their gaze almost met once, on a Friday evening, and a coincidental Valentine’s day.

A sudden bellow from a side alley made her divert her route.

Fate was pulling them apart.

Yet how polar things were just months back.

She hopped onto a train at the last minute, feeling immensely lucky how she’d managed to get a ticket and make it in time for the train before it left.

What she didn’t know was that she would get more than just luck that day, she found her muse – he sat right beside her.

They learned that they were from the same college, she majored in English while he in Literature.

They exchanged humour, engaged in colloquy and converse from politics to Shakespeare. They had hit it off so well; a day passed like an hour.

“Hope to see you again,” he gave her a quick hug before they parted ways.

He chided himself when he realised he had forgotten to ask for her number.

What he didn’t know was that Fate already had plans for the pair.

It was New year’s Eve; Times Square was bustling, it was almost improbable to even twitch a muscle. He felt a nudge on his shoulder and that was the beginning of a beautiful affair – what Fate had in store for the pair.

He was her lover, her muse, and she was his.

The months they spent together were periods of euphoria, yet they didn’t last.

For Fate took a turn in her stance.

Fate cut short their fortuitous meetings and drafted misunderstandings in their fateful occurrences.


He turned back, anxious yet excited – was it her?

But it wasn’t; it was her no more.

She didn’t appear coincidentally any longer, for Fate wouldn’t allow her to.

Wistfully, she was walking along the corner of the street, just a dozen steps away from him.

He stood there – back facing her – immersed in poignant regret and longing. Totally unaware of the manifestation of his longing just mere steps away.

While she too, passed him unknowingly,  with a tinge of yearning hidden in her.

Fate had pulled them together once, yet now it pulled them apart.

Fate is fickle; Fate is capricious.

Fate was their double-edged sword.


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