The Elfin Grott

.....The rain was on its last bout of sobs when she stepped out of the  tall brown building….the smell of sodden earth filled her nostrils slowly carving a way to her mind….the sky looked down wistfully with tear stained eyes…there was a strange sadness ….suddenly the magic butterflies stopped fluttering their wings inside her  heart….

The euphoria that had captivated her in its thralldom for the past few days was gradually dissipating…Oh no! She could hear the hoof beats of those riders of Apocalypse once again…why do they always appear when the lady of Shallot sits in front of her magic mirror….hasn’t the mirror cracked for a zillion times???

She frantically groped for those unburnt logs that she had stashed somewhere in the secret dungeons of her mind…those logs must be set ablaze before the riders reach their destination….the chill was slowly creeping in…..soon everything would get frozen…..”Where are the songs of spring…aye where are they…?’ The grey rider whispered…” they will never be sung again……the choristers have all departed…..the magician has vanished once again….”

She woke up with a start…the tiny specks of yet another shattered dream floated all around her loneliness……