It is just December and my birthday doesn’t come until at least a quarter of a year later, but when prompted by Sanch, it set me thinking about my next birthday.
Last of the birds finding their way home, the crickets chirping as the twilight turned to dusk. My Martha sat on the easy chair, the book she was reading lying open in her lap, the sunlight kissing her feet while her spectacles rested on her nose. Like every other February 11th, she waited for her … Read more
There was nothing on the box except her name Chinnu Mathews and her office address. Curiosity wouldn’t let her work, she was sure. Hurriedly sitting down at her desk, she began unwrapping the box which was neatly packed in brown paper.