Clothes are pressed

Siddhus phone rang. It was an unknown number. But he had a premonition. He picked up.

Hello ...

Hi Sid

The Sid was a strain. It was painstakenly made devoid of love or enthusiasm. It was kavitha. She had called him from a booth. It pained him, that she should have wanted to hide her new number from him. He thought about times when he was her protector against anon calls made to her. He thought "hero turned villian". His face finally showed a smile even as he thought that he could think about catch phrases even in such situations.

"Hi Kavi" . The voice had love.

I want to pick up a few things from home

Sure. you still have a key.

Yeah.

...

I just wanted to inform you.

Not a problem.

Bye

take care.

Kavitha had a strange feeling as she stood in front of the house. That it might engulf her in and never let her out. But she had to get out. She knew she will. She had already decided that her relationship with Sid was over. The cons had outweighed the pros. She thought that had she been Sid she would have said "Done and over" to the gate now. Sid had to tell everything out. to someone. He said it kept him light. "damn your lightness" she said aloud this time.

She went in. First thing was the dresses. She had always kept her clothes neatly pressed. While Sid had always kept his' in a pile. out of which he never chose one out of choice but only because something was on top of the mound. They had fought a hundred times over this. He never did it. He had a way of talking her out of it. She was the neat angel. He was the ugly angel. And then he would say "ugly angel, oh yes, still an angel" and he would hug her.

She opened the cupboard. All the dresses were neatly folded and pressed.