"You know how my family is", ranted Akshaya, "they would never allow me out. Even for a cuppa' coffee."
They were walking along the arcade with the cross patterns on a particularly dimly lit evening. The well sequestered sideline passages were dingy with brown muck and cat litter strewn along haphazard trails due to the rain shower in the afternoon. Akshaya muffled her nose with her yellow dupatta at the obvious stench, as he lay a casual hand over her shoulder like it was the most natural thing to do that evening. She gave a sideward glance with that thick mascara lit eyes of hers, but nothing more.
A pristine heart made of milk and froth sat contently at the center of the abnormally large Cafe Coffee Day cup, as they gazed at each other over the ghostly tea vapours and the pink confetti decors sprawling overhead. He could count beads of sweat on his temple as he tried inching his feet down the coffee table with the hope of hitting something solid. She had sunk low on the tête-à-tête, and had a startled smile on her lips when they made contact below. His jubilation was akin to that of a naked man running across a mine field and surviving the stretch.
Half an hour was all that they had to themselves before she started getting calls from back home. He sat cursing under his breath as she violently lunged up and headed towards the exit. With a tired sigh, he slouched up and accompanied her to the end of the street, before parting away with a longing goodbye.
It was 6.30 PM on her little pendant blue watch as she ran all the way to her house from the bus stop. The front door was ajar and she silently crept inside, rehearsing the story she was about to recount as she heard her mother-in-law admonish the maid in that sickeningly morose tone of hers.
If you liked this story, you probably would like the rest of the series as well!
Three Minute Stories #3 - Revenge of the Chicken Nuggets
Three Minute Stories #2 - The Sunken Sun
Three Minute Stories #1 - Dust Particles in a Sand Storm
