Monday. The most despised day. Just because it follows Sunday, which is, at almost every place, a holiday. We all love holidays, and the relaxation they give. Kusum watched them depart, thinking that she would be alone all day, with no one to talk to, in the three storey bungalow. It was going to be tough for her, because it was the first Monday after the vacation. With a great effort she had been a bit closer to Disha, the girl who always was lost in the thoughts of her old mom. A tear crept out and slid down her cheeks to the chin, falling on the doormat. Disha held her papa's hand while he opened the car door for her. In seconds, they zoomed through the street. In minutes, he'd drop her by school, Kusum thought. She wanted to go with them. She wanted to see her entering the school with the new school uniform. Her class, her friends, and teachers were not going to be here: It was a new school. She would be alone. Will they talk to her? Will she talk to them? I hope she do...
Mixed up with the unreal stuff we always think