Twelve minutes

Every night for three months, he walked me to the lakeside just before nightfall.

I had told him I loved writing and nature inspired me but since everything around was hustle, bustle, loud horns and fast metros, I had decided to leave writing and just focus on life in the city till I was home.

He called three days after and announced that he had found a lake and it was only twelve minutes walk from my apartment.

“Twelve minutes”, I retorted, how could he be so precise? “Well”, he lovingly said, “you know I’m Chronos.”

The next day and onwards, the longest and best twelve minutes of every day was that walk. We talked about everything and sometimes he even asked, “why don’t we just keep on talking, then you can write about our conversation when you get home?” and I’ll reply, “I write about nature, not people.”

But, he had become my definition of nature and though he never knew, every story had his name in it and were sequels to our conversation.

Two months down, I had a voluminous compilation of dialogues that  I felt the world had to complete so I sent them for publishing. It turned out easier than I thought it would and in few days, I had my first publication, titled, Our Voices.

Couldn’t wait for the end of the twelfth week. When we set out that evening, one thing was on my mind, Catch the shock on his face. We sauntered to the lake. Few steps to my favorite spot, he said, “what if the wind has been carrying your thoughts to those who care to listen and it’s all in writing? “Certainly”, I replied, “in my writing, no doubt.”

He flipped his bag open and brought out a book, “Twelve minutes” and the author was Chronos,

Lovingly – daily prompt.


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