I’m new to this city.
This place is my favorite; it’s only a few steps away from my apartment. I silently watch the people – the grumpy widow, that newly married couple, the grieving man and that little girl in her father’s arms.
They hardly ever notice me. I read their expressions since their language is foreign to me.
That’s what I like the most here. I can choose to be myself, not a mute wife or an obedient daughter.
But sooner or later they’d find out my real identity –
Meera Basu, who murdered her
alcoholic and abusive husband.
Written by Chirasree Bose for 100 Word Wednesday: Week 26
Word count: 97