Skip to main content

Man with no name - Chapter 4

CLICK HERE TO FROM READ CHAPTER 1
*4*
     The man hailed an auto and directed him to take him to Taj Windsor. The naïve and ignorant auto driver motioned the man to get in and turned the meter down.
The man paid the auto driver in full and walked through the hotel gates. He walked over to the restaurant and ordered himself a steak with extra sides of mash and veggies. He ordered for a coffee, black. He sipped on his coffee leisurely. A tall man, dressed in a tailored suit and leather patented shoes smiled at him as he made his way to his table.
‘Where have you been? You look like shit!’ The tall man spoke in Hebrew, and addressed the man like friend who knew him since eternity. The man smiled, but the smile never reached his eyes. Instinctively the man reached to feel the chain around his neck and felt nothing but his skin.
‘The Arab is in room 614’ The tall man confided in hushed tone as he surveyed the half empty restaurant. The man nodded ever so slightly. ‘The minister has given the go ahead. It has to be discreet.’ The man nodded again.
‘I need new clothes, shoes and my rabbit’ The man spoke. The tone of the request suggested it was more of a demand.
‘Everything you need is there in room 647’. The tall man smiled for appearances as he slid the room key to the man across the table. The man motioned to the server for check, suggesting that he was done with his meal.
‘And I need a set of wheels’ The man again made his request sound like a demand.
‘The flyaway is sorted.’ The tall man replied.
‘I will make my own way back home. I have some personal business to take care of.’ The man explained as he pushed his chair back and stood up.
‘I will leave the keys at the front desk’ The tall man offered.

The server arrived with the bill, which the tall man signed for. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Amul - A Short Story

Its morning again, I can hear the darned birds chirping outside, with my eyes still closed I can hear the ticking sound of the wall clock like the irritating sound of the water faucet dripping. The water faucet never drips in my house, because I don't like it dripping, like the way mom's head was dripping blood, and flooded the floor and spoiled the carpet. I like everything neat and clean. My name is Amul. I believe my father was especially fascinated by the utterly butterly delicious girl. Though I have a liking towards her myself I don't like to acknowledge that to anybody. Though not many people have actually found out about this connection. But am aware of this because my father during one of his happy drunken moods told me about this. And those are rare cases. I know for a fact that even if am genetically part of my father, I will never become like him. I study in the 7 th grade. And I like my school. My favorite subject is math. I don't understand why people
4 comments
Read more

Happy reading... I suppose...

Hello! Been quite a while since I stared down at the blinking cursor. So here... Uploading ALL of the stories I started and left unfinished over the years (reckon some of this is from circa 2009). Not sure how long the download links will work for... So if you want to read something, reckon best to download them and then like most things in ones' refrigerator, junk them when mold begins to grow on it. NOTE: The work is not proof-read, so there will be errors, spelling mistakes, missing words among others. The Great Indian Mythology : Was supposed to be a re-telling of Mahabharat set in today's day and age in a tongue in cheek manner. But the more I read the actual original story, I realized I can't top the fuckedupness that already exists. But, I did enjoy writing few bits of it.  Will rate this 2/5. If you think what I have written is fucked up, wait till you read the actual story... Not the PG rated Amar Chitra Katha... Also points deducted because I didn'
Post a Comment
Read more

The Man With No Name - Chapter 10

*10* ‘I am sorry about all this’ The man spoke as the woman turned around after closing the main door behind her. ‘Shivu go and get ready for school’ The woman ignored the man and instructed her son. ‘Mumma! It is Sunday’ The boy rolled his eyes as he admonished his mother, before running to place his young behind on the settee and grabbed the TV remote. He punched buttons on the remote and Ninja Hatori came on the screen. ‘How long was I out?’ The man questioned as he tried standing up on his feet, with the bedsheet clutched around his waist. The woman walked to the kitchen ignoring the man. The man stretched and took support of the couch and the dining table as he followed her into the kitchen. ‘I didn’t mean to cause you guys any trouble. I will be out soon. As soon as I figure out where my shirt is’ The man explained. The woman opened the fridge and pulled out six eggs. She loudly plopped the skillet on top of the stove, yelled to her son from the kitchen. ‘Shivu, wha
Post a Comment
Read more