Love Martyr (Micro Fiction)

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Minnie pressed the receiver down on her ear, it sounded like dry heaving at the other end, “Who is this, please speak up!” Concern began to nip at her as darkness flowed in over the wires. Something was amiss.

She called up the exchange, “Can you get me the last incoming call?” The number was familiar. It was barely a week ago she had sat with Anu in her artistic balcony, chatting over the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. “These kids call themselves the millennial generation Minnie, I feel such disconnect with their life style.” The two had talked into the twilight, exchanging notes on their growing children. “I feel deeply concerned at the relationships they enter so early in life, multiple ones at times.”

Minnie took a deep breath. She knew Anu’s son Kabir to be a bit of a love martyr; he suffered a chronic heartache over his high school date. Attempts to wipe the rose off his besotted eyes had famously failed. “Karen is the woman in my life, the world will find out soon what true love is,” the youngster was unhealthily attached.  At an age that was best served working on his own growth, he had taken on the onus of another young life.

Minnie redialed the number nervously. Anu had spoken of their

volatile young equation,“Karen is rapidly outgrowing Kabir and he is struggling with her pace.” The two had begun to fight a lot, going back and forth like the Yo-yo.  It was distressing for the adults to see promising young lives drain thus. “He cannot stand her sprouting wings and coming into her own; and she is rediscovering the joys of personal autonomy,” the words haunted Minnie as she gave up on the phone and clambered down the steps to the garage.

There was an ambulance idling outside, ready to pull away. Minnie switched off in haste and climbed in besides Anu, pulling her close. They rode in grim grief, a soul deep helplessness gnawing at their innards. Kabir lay unconscious on the creaking stretcher, the paramedics busy over him. In a matter of minutes, they were surging into the hospital and the waiting arms of emergency wing.

“It is my fault, I was supposed to put away all the sharp objects at home,” Anu was inconsolable. She sat up all of a sudden, rummaging in her familiar rust tote. “Here, read this, it escaped me completely!” The paper was covered with Kabir’s words in black ink. Minnie flipped the green sheet over by its spiral rib. In the right bottom corner, there was a signature in red:  Karen, TL; DR!

Fraught with despair only a parent can fathom, she enveloped Anu protectively before translating in her ear, “Karen, Too long; did not read!”