.. were the shoes.Fifty. Maybe sixty sets. Neatly taken off, paired off, then set to the ground. Almost a hundred people had walked in here, quietly t...ken off their shoes, then as a group, jammed their heads into the fountain. Their bodies had started to tighten and rot - and I could see the faint squirm of bugs underneath the skin. I stepped slowly back.“Jesus...” I whispered.Tink tink tink tink.The sound - not unlike a piece of bone rapping against a metal wall - echoed from the mall.I. And I may sound crazy what I love most in my mother is that she is fat..she is not beautiful and shapely as I read in most stories here..( I mean how insane people are..) but she is a normal woman which is found in most Indian households. And this is what I am attracted to..If you have not read the earlier posts, I would request you to glance through them before reading this part. As you may remember. My mother in real life had started to walk on the road of forgiving me but the destination was. More

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