‘I do not think you are telling the truth!’ Rab cried as she pushed him out into the cold.

She shrugged noncommittally. All she wanted at this point was to be left alone. 

To cry. To mourn. To wallow in self pity and regret.

‘I dare you, Yar! I dare you to be a strong wind rather than a light breeze. I dare you to be a storm rather than a drizzle. I dare you to walk, not tiptoe. I dare you to live, not exist. I dare you.’

Barely a whisper.

She opened the door slightly and looked at him closely, tired eyes in a beautiful face.

‘I accept your dare. Now I dare you, Rab.’

‘Anything.’

‘I dare you…to stop talking to me.’

Door slammed.

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