END OF STORY
By Neel Anil Panicker
Icy shards of white wind cut through Shaji’s tattered button less shirt, infiltrated his hole ridden trousers, the December cold shearing his skin and biting into his puny bony self.
Hands clutching his chest, the urchin crossed the neon lit near deserted rain swept street, his wobbly legs threatening to give way any moment; his innards empty of food; his mind a trance.
He was late, perhaps his reactions were a tad slow, or maybe, the occupants of the monster six seater were in a bit of a hurry to head to the warmth of their beds, tired as they were after downing one too many, but when hard steel made contact with half deadened human skin, the ending was fast, inevitable, and painless.
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