Glowing, beaming morning. hastily unlock dustyvbook bag melodias music of pages paused by thebloudbtrampet blast. it was my beautiful, hardworking mother shouting at me for the half done home work amidst the tempest, tiffin box was helpless innocently waiting to be filled but the kitchen strik with all its slogan terrified me
i just uncovered the corton and eyes peped, could identify 6closed eys still joyfully counting the stars, three naughty brothers, not bothered, blankets obediently coverd them.
My tiny steps reached the room ,jiggle them powerfully but the dead...