The Lonely Old Man

          Trrng –The doorbell rang shrilly, jerking elderly Manohar Abhyankar out of his customary afternoon siesta. Cursing the unknown caller under his breath, he shuffled to the door and opened it. A young man, probably in his thirties, wearing a striped T-shirt and faded jeans, was at the door. A large bundle of neatly folded Kolkata saris was on the floor beside him.

          “Oh, salesman! I don’t want to buy anything. Go away.” Before he could shut the door, the young man shoved him in and swiftly took the bundle with him. He quickly bolted the door and pointed a gleaming knife at him. Was it a Rampuri? The old man thought absent-mindedly. Strangely, he didn’t feel any sense of fear. He felt as though he was dreaming.

          “C’mon, hand over all your cash and valuables to me. Quick! And don’t try any tricks. See this?” He asked, brandishing his knife menacingly.

          Wow, this is exciting, thought Manohar....

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.