Originally posted by: DonnaHarvey
#3-Paper
Rock, paper, scissors. Madhu trailed along the braille labels on her wardrobe trying to pick out a dress to wear. One that did not scream to hell and back. Yes, she had an (metaphorical) eye for fashion that was spared in the accident. But, her instinct did not come without a loss of sensing colour. Unlike those who were born without sight, she once had a vivid image of red. Admittedly, now fading and she could not wrap around an abled man's description of the crimson on her kitten heels. So, she picked up the first pair she laid hands on and head out.
The dress, that was another problem entirely. Time to tackle another ignorant salesperson at the mall. This reminded her why Scandinavia was on top of her dream destinations and socialism an inherent part of her political mission. Not that she had much of a mission.
Other than being a techie and a once rich girl who was silly enough to toss it all out to the beggars, she didn't have much to show for. In fact, had she been able bodied, she would have been called a shit ton of names that men now kept to themselves.
Even with all their caution, she heard a few. Just the other day RK's movie director was telling him how naughty Ms. Malik had been showing up with a new man every red carpet.
"Why is she even on red carpets? What does she got to show other than a nice ass?" Rishabh had changed topics hoping not to involve himself in the gossip runs.
"That, I vouch for. Woman's got her way. If I were not married, I would be all over that".
"Hey now! I saw her first", he pouted like the twelve year old who discovered girls don't have cooties after all.
"That's what you said about ''..let's see, every other woman", the director tossed thick sheets of paper in the hero's hand to go look for no one in particular.
"Did I hear my name?" A laser pointed right at Rishabh as the woman of the hour approached him. Seemed as though she had forgotten all about their last awkward encounter. Who was he kidding? Every conversation they had ended in painful silence. That was all about to change today. He had gone so far as to brainstorm common conversation points that looked good, atleast on paper.