She was adorable, yet her cleavage showed her age – wrinkled and made up.  She was the reason why I hadn’t had a single day off in my office. She, my colleague, in her mid-60 was fresh enough to flirt.  On any given day, she looked dazzling though a single mom of 17.  I too had my own feelings – a foxy thought of having her on my bed. She invited me for a dinner. Ecstasy on my head, I prepared physically.  The flat was lit by candles and the ambience as anything but natural. She insisted to try on some shirts, which I did. Many of them were same as tailored made for me. No sooner, when we had our eyes locked, she wept and called me “SON”.

I too hugged her but what I saw was a wallpaper of my own nemesis – a look-a-like of her own SON – and it was his death anniversary.She was a good company. She kept on reminded me that I am not isolated, even on a busiet trains, in my countryside. Her voice was sweet and tranquillising. She was all there in my life. Months and years swept through us and our bonding become stronger and fruitful.

One day, I asked, are you seeing anyone esle other than me ? She said, with her same sweet and angelic voice, “I am Siri, I can’t see, I talk !