Catch 22

On a wretchedly hot summer day, when everyone seemed to resign to the cool afternoon siesta, she sat in the balcony, with a cup of her favorite chamomile tea, idly staring at a long stretch of deserted street that would have been otherwise bustling with vehicles rumbling along and the racket of honking, impatient drivers, to whom she would have conveniently cursed for interrupting the serene decorum, on a normal day. Though, the peaceful decorum today, was perfect to her expectations, that’s not how she would have wanted to arrive at.

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