Batch “A”, 2008
It had been a long Tuesday afternoon. They’d all been on various queues since morning, pushing and shoving and hissing at each other. He was vaguely conscious of her standing in front of him. There was a fresh surge of complaints and grumbling and shoving and suddenly, her foot landed on his big toe. Hard.
“Sorry!”, she’d cried immediately, turning a sincere look on him.
“No problem,” he’d heard himself say. “I’ll forgive you on one condition.”
“What?”, she’d asked, a small smile lurking around the edges of her small, full lips. She wasn’t sure if he was serious or taking the piss.
“Marry me,” he’d said, with a straight face.
Where the hell had that come from? Was he crazy?
“Are you crazy?” she said, releasing the hostage smile.
“I’m serious, now. Marry me.” Continue reading