We called it our aeroplane. The epithet was misplaced. It should have been rocket- equally temperamental and majestic. That was my father’s white ambassador- his first car. It looked massive to my six-year-old self. You could roll down the dark tinted windows, honk its horn, play hide and seek in it and if you were … Continue reading No Appetite For Seconds
Those evenings were a proof of a love that I have never known since...
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What was the whole purpose of vacations?