(Image Credit: Bhutan | Google Maps)
“You must write a book”, Ash exhorted for what must have been the billionth time. “If at all I write anything it will be…” Before Venky could even finish, Ash interrupted furiously and hollered, “No, it won’t be on me!” Her cheeks framed by high cheek bones had now turned an angry red and her blazing eyes signified she was in a no-nonsense vein. Venky instinctively smiled. Her otherwise captivating beauty was embellished manifold when she was driven to a state of rage.
Now surrounded by the lush and magnificent landscape, Venky sat at a small desk placed against the wall of a spartan structure isolated from the hustle and bustle of capitalism and construction. Amidst the plunging valleys of regal Bhutan, Venky put the nib of his felt tipped pen to paper. “She was of an unencumbered beauty” he began. Of course his book had to be about her.
(Word Count: 150)
This has been an edition of What Pegman Saw
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