by Anita Satyajit

People laughed at the madwoman. Some ignored her but most chose to smirk as she ran about the streets singing praises of her lover. She sang lyrics of the love which ravaged her soul; words to which only she knew the meaning. Some in town listened to her, felt her loss and threw her compassionate glances. But caught in the madness, she saw no one. Not even him, as he walked by casting a tired eye at her.


Anita Satyajit is a writer who loves to constantly seduce, play, and battle with words. She is predominantly a non-fiction writer but her secret closet is stacked high with stories and poems. For more, visit her blog.