Experience reading like never before
Sign in to continue reading.
"It was a wonderful experience interacting with you and appreciate the way you have planned and executed the whole publication process within the agreed timelines.”
Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh Pal
I dressed in black. I wore my red lipstick, neatly styled my hair to a bun, and walked to my college. I reached early as I took care of all the arrangements. I heard whispers and guys making noise nearby. I turned to check what that was about. It was him. He was in a grey suit. Grey and black, straightened hair, with shades on, he walked straight towards me.
I was standing nearby the registration area, hearing my batchmates gossip about me, “He&rs
I dressed in black. I wore my red lipstick, neatly styled my hair to a bun, and walked to my college. I reached early as I took care of all the arrangements. I heard whispers and guys making noise nearby. I turned to check what that was about. It was him. He was in a grey suit. Grey and black, straightened hair, with shades on, he walked straight towards me.
I was standing nearby the registration area, hearing my batchmates gossip about me, “He’s just nice to her ’cause she takes care of…”
She had been reliving these memories in her head, over and over again.
It’s like a high-resolution video that kept playing and she had no control over it.
Her ugly, guilty, and an almost love story—Secret Goodbyes.
I sit sidesaddle on the cement floor and handpick the pastels, carefully blending the shades on my drawing notebook as I listen to my mother speak to someone on the cordless phone. I feel her walk quickly to the other end of the room to take a peek outside of the house and I look up. She looks pale Read More...
Are you sure you want to close this?
You might lose all unsaved changes.
The items in your Cart will be deleted, click ok to proceed.