Short Story: Other Lives By Sohana Manzoor

Cast a cold eye

On life, on death

Horseman, pass by

                        — W. B Yeats

1.

The morning was still chilly when the krishnachura tree saw the two sitting on a pile of rubbles by the large playground near the school building. They were about five or six years of age. The boy was in navy blue shorts and white shirt. The girl was dressed in blue. The two small figures obviously knew one another well. They were comfortable in each other’s company and sat there dangling their legs. The boy suddenly held out his palm and offered something to the girl. She looked at it with curiosity, but then shook her head. The boy scratched his head, baffled. He looked at the small item in his palm and took out a piece of cloth. He cleaned it carefully and then offered it to the girl again. “It’s clean now. Take it.”