Friend’s Wife

The only movement was a slight tremble from the tears rolling down her cheeks. I walked straight past her, assuming the classic ‘Oh, I didn’t just...notice you’ expression that London people are somehow innately born with for such tricky situations. Surprisingly though, for the few seconds that I had seen her, I was able to form an almost perfect picture of her that I still have deeply ingrained in my memory to this day. I remember that she was wearing a fairly simple, and quite frankly, passe. It was only 2 pm. I certainly wasn’t going to wait around for four hours for sam to come home, and I didn’t want to drive to Lonavala to meet them at the rally. I decided to go inside and have a drink, then drive back home. I was somewhat annoyed that sam had forgotten I was coming over, but in all honesty, I had forgotten once too, so we were equal. “thank you,” I said, stepping into the hallway. — I sat down on the couch while Mrs. Sonam fixed us a jar of lemonade. She came over and sat in. More

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