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Cotton Candy - A short story

Credit: Stock photo By Anuja Tilj from Pixabay

Walking down the beach side,
She saw him lost in his thoughts,
While the lady beside was counting coins,
Life was visible on there faces,
The pains they had endured she wondered,
Must be the wrinkles she found herself counting,
The constant salty breeze of the ocean,
Sometimes made them move,
But like the pull of a magnet,
They would get back to business as usual.

It’s been a childhood compulsion,
For if she sees a cotton candy,
She has to get one,
Never really remembering,
When it all started,
All she remembers,
She reaches out for one,
Whenever she finds one,
The world doesn't matter,
Impressions doesn't matter,
Cotton candies meant the world to her.

Her parents never understood the compulsion,
She remembers being schooled now and then,
Even doctors were consulted,
But after a while the nagging stopped,
Parents stopped bugging her,
She just guessed they understood her finally,
And then cotton candies became the world to her,
While other kids craved for Swiss chocolates,
She shouted for the simple Cotton Candies.

Sitting under an old black umbrella,
They both sat,
With no rush at this hour,
He was lost in his usual thoughts,
Adjusting the broken circular spectacle,
When the breeze was a bit stronger than usual,
While she counted the coins and let him know,
Only to be greeted by a simple nod.

It was lunch hour,
But food was just fuel,
To keep the body running,
Concept of three meals a day was lost to them.

He was the first to notice,
The lady in her suit,
Walking towards them,
He prepared for the sale,
While his wife rechecked the coins.

'Can I have two Cotton Candies',
She blurted out in English,
Living abroad has taken a toll she thought,
As she was about to repeat,
In her native language she seldom spoke,
The answer came, 'Sure you can my dear',
Taken aback she was,
By the English response by this old vendor,
Fluent and clear,
With unexpected accent,
She wondered how,
And watched the old man,
Prepare her Cotton Candies.

Her eyes drifted,
Towards a photograph,
A girl, about 5 years of age,
Inside a wooden frame,
Design on sides,
Something was amiss,
That 5 year old's smile,
Caught her eye.

She asked for the photo,
Held it closer to her body,
Now trembling,
She reaches out to her purse,
An old photo of her,
With her parents and two brothers,
She always wondered,
Why she looked different,
Different skin shade,
Non-matching face.

Now it made sense,
As she compared the two photos,
Side-by-side,
Repressed memories rushing in,
Of childhood,
Busy streets,
Heavy lights,
Vendors shouting,
As she waits,
Her hand being held,
By a man with a big smile,
Skin shade much like her's,
A familiar face,
Adjusting his circular spectacle,
As the vendor calls her out,
'Here miss, your cotton candies'.

- Ⓒ onerandompoet
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