More Coffee? No Thanks. Chapter 9


A girl can only pretend to not know what is on a guy’s mind.

I remained seated on the bed clutching the painting, not daring to breathe. If you were to walk into the room, you could have easily walked past me, mistaking me for an oddly shaped log with a painting stuck on it. And then you might have meandered back out into the living room to where Gopal and Reva stood, preparing to depart. I, on the other hand, would have opted to stay back in the confines of the room, awaiting an opportunity to escape.

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More Coffee? No Thanks. Chapter 8.


Man, this Sun TV really knows its audience well.

Uncle Sridhar watched an effectively dumbed-down detective series on the channel with me by his side.

“I think the driver is the killer. Right, Hari?” he thought aloud, his mouth full of Pongal.

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