The prompt for the 11th of June is, 'Stairs' and the above is my picture for the prompt.
My husband grew up and studied in Ooty, and has a special attatchment to that place.
Whenever we visit Ooty, we make it a point to visit the small but beautiful St Stephen's Church, and the graveyard behind it. This picture was clicked there.
She sat up in bed and inhaled a last puff of her
cigarette, before squishing it into the ashtray. Buttons and zips ensured her
clothes covered her up again.
Running a brush through her hair she pocketed the slim
stack of notes.
‘Won’t you check to see if the amount is all there?’
grinned the man from the bed.
‘Not with you. Never. I know I can count on you,
Sirji’ she left the room with a wink and jaunty air kiss.
A 100 rupee note discreetly made it’s way into the
doorman’s palm and another found it’s way into the pocket of the valet who
drove her BMW to the hotel entrance.
As the luxury car purred its way forward on the empty streets
she switched on her mobile. ‘Congratulations, Madam. The house in Goa is
yours’, read the text message, making her smile.
Abandoned by parents who couldn’t afford to take care
of another girl child, she was left at the police station by a stranger.
The Police admitted her to Children’s Home, deeming it
to be the safest place for an orphan.
Little did they know.
The trust fund that ran the Home imagined they owned
the children living there too, and the official who had innaugurated the home
wanted to sample the wares as well.
As soon as she attained puberty, various ‘Uncles’
robbed her off her soul, year after year.
She protested, and was hit. She cried, and was laughed
at.
Till she decided to use the people who had
used her, as the Stairs to climb her way to the top.