She loved him. He loved her. There was a thick white line between their ends of the court. The match started.
First, she held her breath, extended her arm and muttering “”Love, love, love..” went charging into his side of the court. If only she could touch him and return across the thick white line.
He looked at her. She had love in her eyes, on her breath. But, why did she want to score a point? Anyway, he tried to grab and keep her on his side but she was elusive. Finally, she was getting out of breath and she went across the line.
Now, it was his turn. He too held his breath and ventured into her territory whilst muttering “Love, love, love…” This time she tried to grab him and keep him permanently on her side. Once or twice he was very close to touching her and changing her forever but whilst she wanted love she did not want to be changed. She detested any change because it appeared to her as encroachment on her independence.
This continued for sometime; both having love on their lips but both wanting to score points and return across the line. At one point she touched him and he actually grabbed her but she dragged him all the way back to the line and scored a point. He was at a disadvantage even when he grabbed her. He looked into her eyes and forgot all about the game.
After this, everytime she ventured into his territory, she was quick to realise and exploit the advantage it gave her to make him look in her eyes and then score points. She thus raced to nearly the end of the game (match point) whilst he was still at Love.
Finally, she won, or so she thought. She returned to her side. On the sidelines her fans were there cheering her up; some of them even so bold as to lift her up and display her as a prize.
He just watched and kept standing there. He was still standing when she went away with her complete fan club, cheerers and followers.
He was still standing there when it rained. Slowly, there was no thick white line, nor the court, and no signs of the Love Game.
“Love, love, love, love…” he kept muttering, barely audible now….
The last breath was taking longer than he’d expected.
This sure is one game I don’t wanna play 😛
Imaginative post, lovely writing I must say 😀
I’m voting 🙂
PS, could you read a post of mine? And if you like it, give it a vote? I’d be really grateful 🙂
http://www.indiblogger.in/indipost.php?post=90039