THE WAIT
By Neel Anil Panicker
Ashish looked across the street towards the bus depot.
Barring the neon lit signage that insouciantly proclaimed the words BUS DEPOT and the near fading sulphur vapour lamps emitting from inside the highway depot three miles out of town, the place screamed desolateness with a capital D.
As the blanket of eerie silence darkened, the fresh police recruit, crouched behind the lone bench overlooking the main road began to have second thoughts.
‘Was this a wild goose chase? Or worse, a trap?’
The soft glow of a torch beaming into the bushes fell on his face.
His informer had arrived.
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