..i am wearing a tank top sticking to my sweaty body cuz i just got done working outStranger: if i dont sit carefully you will be able to see my balls...tranger: as u walk over i barely whistle and think damn i would love to ride that lil pussyYou: oh yes you wouldStranger: watchin you walk over you come to the bottom of the steps of my porch and i can look down your top to see most of your titsStranger: you say to me?You: hey I’m new in town and i need someone to show me aroundStranger: hey. All the children have their bedrooms on the floor above and so Yashvi and Smita ma’am used to occupy her bedroom and I used to be in mine. My dad and uncle went out for work and mom aunty dada and dadi usually didnt take pains of climbing the stairs and coming up. So there was privacy.After about a month one day I decided to go to a friend’s place so I just informed Yashvi and went out but then I thought of driving there so I again went up to take the car keys. I went to the living room it. The curtains, slightly open, allowed a crack of sunlight into the room and the breeze from the open window cooled me as I drifted between waking and sleeping. In my half-conscious state I heard the doorbell ring. I quickly came to my senses. The parcel! I was waiting for a new router for my laptop. It had been three days now without the internet, and life was dull without the chat rooms and my cyber friends. I leapt of bed, grabbed my dressing gown and ran down the stairs. I jerked open the. ‘Left brain, shutdown, right brain OBSERVE.’ That’s when I got my first story image. Rather than define the narrator in The ReDating Game, I tried echoing his elusive feelings. I got anger, confusion, despair, futility and loneliness. Left brain kicked in… Is this just a psychological reflection of me and my moods? Happily, it was not. ‘Left brain off, right brain contact him.’ The initial, resolving image for The ReDating Game was this: A man sat alone at a four-place food court table. His.
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