“Was the sandwich nice?” I half-heartedly joked, moving past her.“Yup.” she quietly replied. I was nearly all the way up the stairs when she c...eared her throat. “Hey.”“Hey hey.” I turned around to face her.“You busy?”“Not terribly. What can I do for you?”“Do you just want to ... keep me company?” she asked shyly.“Uh, yeah, totally.” I replied coolly, coming back downstairs. “Kitchen, your room, my room... ?”“My room’s fine. Thanks.” she replied, going into her room. I followed, and took my. One of us was moving slowly due to a broken or badly twisted ankle and they had a short discussion before slitting her throat and throwing her overboard right in front of us. Right after that, the same little group of “sorters” stopped right in front of me and they prodded my broken arm and kicked my scabbed over backside with highly polished boots. I could see them having the same sort of discussion and made a point of quickly jumping to my feet at attention and bowing to show them I was in. I had suffered through months of making contact with Amelia's friends and acquaintances, and had managed to make it with just a few awkward moments. This promised to inundate me with more of the same, as distant relatives and friends came for the wedding. But there was no getting around it, since to not invite them would be a terrible insult.Anne came down to Hartford a couple of times, from her new home in Boston, to help out when Gerald would go away on business. They were very happy together. I was surprised to know that it was a wrong number and I was asking the payment from a wrong person. I quickly apologized and sent a sorry message. The reply from the other side complimented my decency and asked details about me and my work. After giving all my details, I asked for the person’s name that I was unintentionally troubling all these days. The reply was: I m Anita, a school teacher, staying in Borivali. That day on we started exchanging messages which included, jokes, sentimental.
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