The black square letterbox was floating above the aquarium. It puked out three imperial parchments one after another—each of them, appeared confidential and fell beside the couple with a soft whistle. It had been a while for the couple had shared a word.
Swamy was taking her sweet time to soak in the flood of information about her father’s betrayal while Svāhā had his own troubles to fret over. Both of them were lost in their own universe and provided ample space, the other one needed.
In the background echoed cluttered noise of cutleries and household pieces of machinery as Vasishta helped herself with coffee while struggling with a ‘good’ breakfast menu.
The first one, a pink envelop with glittery hearts and a unicorn seal, slipped beneath Svāhā’s feet while the yellow
