The Story
He stood under the cold shower, eyes closed in a bliss, he picked up the shower gel and lathered it all over his body. He loved long showers but today he did not have the luxury of doing so -his boss had just messaged him.
I need 400 words on migrants-full
drama, tears-the works. By noon. Today.
He walked to his wooden desk next to the French window
overlooking the lush garden that his wife tended to so lovingly. The endless
row of marigold danced joyfully even as the hot wind slapped them harshly. He
booted his computer and called out, “Bahadur. Get me a shikanji. At least 6 cubes
of ice. And keep some beer in the freezer.”
He scrolled through a few websites, humming under his
breath, when he spotted picture of migrants. A bus bursting with passengers
and their belongings , a man trying to scramble up the roof-top with a toddler clinging on to his legs.
Perfect.
He smiled.
This is going to be a great story.
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