Short Story
She was a blonde, vivacious at that. He was a cricketer, hoping to make it large.
He said he had a T20 match in the evening and had to go practice. She said she’d be there to cheer him on. He kissed her goodbye and left.
He toiled hard in the nets. (He felt good). A good performance today in front of her and he was gonna propose.
She spent time in front of the mirror. She was going to go early and give him a surprise.
She reached the stadium, made her way in. The match had already begun and she herself was surprised. “Had I lost track of time (standing in front of the mirror)?”, she wondered.
She looked at the electronic scoreboard and searched for his name. Unable to find it, she searched again. Tears came streaming down her face. “Was he cheating on me?”
He was laying prone on the ground, the match wasn’t scheduled to begin for another hour. He glanced towards the hand operated scoreboard. He chuckled, realising he was wrong in assuming they existed only in sri lanka. They were now putting up his name, a letter at a time. Technology kills the romance, he mused.
She ran out of the stadium and out of his life.
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Inspired by Cricket Australia’s scheduling of Big Bash.
And if you’re like “why would she do that?”, put that down to the stereotypical blonde eccentricity or whatever.
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