Red..

           She hurled the books on the sofa, took a quick bite of the tuna sandwich left over from last night and pulled out some change from the little red box to grab some coffee on the way. It was a couple of degrees below the freezing point and she wanted to dance to the music playing in her head. Floyd and Ward, Melua and Katy, all seemed to flow through her head like a gust of warm air and she tapped her feet to every beat as she went around making the room more habitable. There was June's shirt lying on the floor in a lump, a couple of empty tortilla bags on the bed table and then there was his old blue guitar lying in front of his closet.And yes, the bed was unmade and the couch was displaced from its usual comfortable corner and now lay in the gallery blocking the only way to the wash room.

    So,she went on from the shirt to the guitar,the tortilla bags to the couch, patiently. It was one of the very few days when his untidiness and she were best friends. It was a great beautiful day and she had smiled at everyone on her way back home. She had even dropped in at the rude Mrs. Lorde and given the old woman, a warm bear hug. She had also talked to the jerk across the road till he stopped singing one of his ridiculous raps to her.

                           It was a fine day and she did not mind the cold. She did not mind the force of the western wind that...