It's a sad story. There is death at the end. It began one sunny afternoon when I looked out of my bedroom window and saw Bittu outside. Just laying in the sun. Enjoying to the maximum.
But I didn't like Bittu at all.
Infact, I was scared and disgusted.
How could something so small and insignificant make me feel so strange. I thought fuck it.
I closed the door to the area outside the bedroom and vowed never to go there again till I saw Bittu vanished from there.
But that didn't happen. I kept seeing Bittu every now and then when I looked out of the window. I thought of ways in which I could help Bittu in getting the fuck out of that place, but it seemed nothing would work.
I left things as they were and continued my life without thinking about the space outside the bedroom. But, today I opened that door after many months and there was Bittu. All shriveled and dried up in the sun and definitely dead.
I still hate lizards and I will always do.
But I didn't like Bittu at all.
Infact, I was scared and disgusted.
How could something so small and insignificant make me feel so strange. I thought fuck it.
I closed the door to the area outside the bedroom and vowed never to go there again till I saw Bittu vanished from there.
But that didn't happen. I kept seeing Bittu every now and then when I looked out of the window. I thought of ways in which I could help Bittu in getting the fuck out of that place, but it seemed nothing would work.
I left things as they were and continued my life without thinking about the space outside the bedroom. But, today I opened that door after many months and there was Bittu. All shriveled and dried up in the sun and definitely dead.
I still hate lizards and I will always do.