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Pradeep Gusain


Mona looked outside. She and her twin sister Dona were on Don Valley Parkway in Toronto, Ontario. It was bright and sunny outside. Just enough to keep the mild autumnal chill at bay. Maple and other deciduous trees bled in all shades of blood.  But they had yet not shed most of their foliage.  Individual leaves seemed unsure and hesitated before breaking the bond and take the final plunge.  The entire valley looked crimson, like the open heart of a patient at Toronto General Hospital where Mona worked as a nurse. It was the time when a sweet melancholy descends on the heart like fluttering dry leaves. One wants to leave behind all the cares and snares of life and walk hand-in-hand, quite quiet, with one’s soul mate, under the caressing sun on a dusty forest path strewn with dry crumbling leaves. Mona felt suffocated in the car. She wanted…