Feathers of Falsehood  

“When you pretend all the time, you cannot tell when you’re being real.”

It was an hour past mid-night. The milkman had woken with a start. Lifting up his heavy eyelids, he walked to the kitchen and sat at the table.

There wasn’t a sound to be heard. The silence in the room made it difficult to breathe. In the thought of what had woken him, the milkman walked to the stove with a vessel and some milk.

“No matter how many feathers you dress yourself up with, you are going to be as grounded as the skin on your body,” he said out loud while heating the milk.

He remembered the story. It was a sad story. His great grandmother used to tell it to him with her hand pampering his head and her ‘old person smell’ cuddling him.

 – Milkman 2017


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