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She went ahead, sat on her bead and looked at me invitingly. I stood without moving. She smiled and said, ‘Sir, nobody is home. Don’t worry so much. Come near me as I want to show you something.’I walked in her direction and sat beside her in bed with a trembling heart. She pulled out her Nokia mobile and showed me the clip of me singing earlier in the day in the class-room. She had recorded both the songs including the part of that student running excitedly up to me to hug me. That touched my heart and I said, ‘Thank you. I didn’t notice you were shooting me.’Instead of answering me by saying something, she closed her eyes and tilted her head against the wall. I didn’t know what to do next. My eyes were fixated on her heaving bosoms. Up and down. Up and down. She was breathing rapidly. I looked around at her table with the piles of note-books and text-books amongst which I found a pen holder. In the middle of this pen-holder there was a peacock feather.I reached out and took that. Coming back to the present, Jason swore, switching off the stand mixer, which had been whirring for long minutes. For some reason, all he kept thinking was that he was the one who’d taught Anna how to swim that first summer on the shores of Lake Purdy. And now, she was the one leaving him to flounder. The irony was almost funny, but mostly it just pissed him off. What the hell was he supposed to do? Angrily digging through a cabinet, he searched for a canister of flour but gave up after only a few seconds of looking. With a roughness fed by frustration and anger, he ripped open a fresh bag, only to wind up enveloped in a cloud of fine, white flour when the bag tore apart in his rough grasp. ‘Son of a bitch!’ Waving a hand in front of his face, he coughed, resisting the urge to spit out the flour dust in his mouth. ‘I, uh, didn’t realize you were branching out to parlor tricks,’ said an irritatingly sarcastic, and familiar, voice. Over his shoulder, Jason scowled at Sam Wyatt, his.
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