She could no more kill her desires. She no more cared about the world. Her monsoon love was back. The clouds rejoiced and showered their blessings upon her!
Read social story. As days went by, a sort of regularity crept into the affair, somehow I began to relate and encrypt the ‘R’ in the cask of my own feelings that enveloped my inner self.
A windy cloudy morning, Glossy leaves, fresh and lush, Branches swaying down and up, Welcome !’ Trees said to the wind, Which was gushing, rushing and passing through.