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Anindita Sarkar


She was a waitress at the Waffle House and he was a regular customer. She greeted him every day with a seductive grin as if she would happily split the bill. Standing on the adjacent booth she often noticed him staring at her over the brim of his coffee mug. Perhaps everybody in the café thought they were lovers. But they weren’t actually lovers, just two unloved strangers. On one evening he initiated a casual conversation. They talked and talked. She asked her lover who was not yet her lover if he wanted to go to her place. Her voice struck him like a lusty yell of womanhood. He didn’t deny. Back in the apartment they kissed and kissed until their lips hurt. A storm shrouded the city, they held each other and hoped the storm to continue forever. Next morning they confessed about their lives. Both were married to…