Mrs. Moorthy was the first friend Riya made in this place. That was almost nine years ago. Today, the park looked empty without her, thought Riya wistfully.
Riya was unsure of the move to this new city. But when a good opportunity knocked on her door, moving away from her familiar neighborhood and building a new life in an unfamiliar big city was the option. After a nervous first week at the office, Riya came down to take a stroll in the nearby park where she lived.
That’s when she met Mrs. Moorthy for the very first time. An elderly woman in her 70s living with her husband in the same community as hers. Mrs. Moorthy immediately recognized the homesickness on Riya’s face and talked to her like a long-lost friend.
Riya was grateful for Mrs. Moorthy. She would’ve never felt comfortable talking to an elderly person like her as she would to a friend.
From that onwards, every weekend they met at the park sharing stories from Riya’s office and Mrs. Moorthy’s life.
For Riya, Mrs. Moorthy was a reliable friend. Her advice was always spot on. She confided everything in Mrs. Moorthy. How much Riya cherished this friendship she knew from day one. But today she realized how much she had missed Mrs. Moorthy’s companionship.
It’s been only a week since Mrs. Moorthy departed this world along with Riya and the park they met regularly.
Mrs. Moorthy’s pearls of wisdom on flavors of life stayed with Riya, but her absence tormented her. Maybe, those pearls of wisdom would guide her to navigate the grief of Mrs. Moorthy’s departure and find another flavor of life.

This five-sentence fiction piece is written in response to the eighty-ninth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘FLAVOR’ and the above picture prompt hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
Such friendships are rare and it’s so sad to lose a true friend . Heartwarming one
LikeLike
Sometimes seeds sown in the form of advice or thoughts take their own time to germinate and unexpectedly one day, we find they have flourished
LikeLike