”“What about you? Enjoy the kiss?”“Not nearly as much as when you know someone.” Then I caught her laughing.“We better be getting to class... We’ll talk at lunch.”“See you.”It was time for art, but first I stopped in the girls bathroom. You see, being in The Program means I not only have to use the girl’s showers but also the their bathrooms. It wasn’t much different than the guys bathroom, except there were no urinals. But I didn’t have to go pee or anything, instead I wet a couple of paper. She used to live in Bangalore with her husband and kids. Her husband had got a job in Canada so she returned to her hometown i.e. Erode. She didn’t want to live with her in laws so her husband kept her separate in this apartment. Everything was normal for a year. She used to come to our house and my mom used to go to her house and all the other neighborly gestures.When I was in 4th semester, one day my mom told me dry the clothes on the terrace. I went to terrace and saw Viji aunty drying her. Margaret tried to find some plausible excuse but the child was one born not to be deceived and knew instinctively that her mother had suffered extreme punishment of some nature in her past and that made her infinitely more interesting to her.The child's name was Rose and she was certainly a rose with sharp and dangerous thorns. She loved to direct games with her companions acting out roles of prisoner's in her personal dungeon. At the age of sixteen, she collared a servant girl for her bedroom. I’d be happy if I would never be in a situation like this again.“Yes, sorry about that. Next time I’ll try to be more careful.”While saying that, I saluted him and took a sip of the smoky usquebae from the glass I had been holding in my right hand.“Stay still, young man.”“I’m sorry.”The woman who had been patching me together let out a sigh of frustration and turned to face me.“Stop being sorry for yourself, you fool, and celebrate. You fought them and won. You saved us, our customers and for.
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