Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Shrutarshi Basu

I stood back watching the rain. I like the rain, it passes you by, doesn’t bother you.
The last bus came and stopped. People got off and the bus went away. 11 o’clock. Time to go home. She didn’t come yesterday. She didn’t come today. Maybe she’ll come tomorrow. Anyway, it’s time to go home.