Riyaz looked down from the tenth floor balcony of his house.
There was heavy traffic, as it always was at this time of the evening.
He turned back to look at the shelf, filled with old drama awards from his school days.
The word kept echoing in the back of his head, the memories flooding back quickly.
Nothing he had accomplished since then apparently mattered.
“Failure,” he mulled, looking at the road down below him, tired of acting like he was okay.
(© Vinay Leo R. @ I Rhyme Without Reason,
1st April, 2018)