His hand shook as he picked up a glass of water to quench his thirst, which he had been holding for a long time now. He had hobbled his way to kitchen, patiently – watchful of every little step. I waited for him to open the door, to deliver his order.
He had a familiar countenance. Wrinkled skin, spectacles hanging precariously on the nose, some hoarseness in voice, droopy eyes and a tender appearance. Our conversations had been limited, though I had been invited for long ones, many a times. But I had a job at hand and a dearth of time.
Today was different. Third day since my granpa had died and I had to report on the job. My grandpa, was my connection, with who I had been. Slowly, I was assuaging my loss.
Before I could think more, he opened the door.
‘Good Morning Victor! Got this parcel again..’, he smiled and continued ‘These kids you know.. Medicines don’t have an effect after a certain age. They are just a key to dying, but please keep it here and thank you!’
‘Sir, I have seen you for a few years now.. you’ve only grown younger!’, I winked as I chuckled.
He laughed and invited me for a coffee.
Today was different, I couldn’t refuse. I headed for the kitchen. As the coffee brewed, I felt warmed inside. I don’t know the key to dying or living – but for all the urgent affairs I had, at hand, I felt calm and eternal, like I had all the time in this world, for anything that it could ask me for…
‘Do get some donuts from the side-drawer.. I have a small treat for you!’, he said with a humor laden voice..
‘Right Away Sir’, I heard my happy voice, as I replied..
Inspired by Key to Dying