There is a strand of hair at the back of her right calf. She hunches down to take a closer look. It looks like it’s waving at her and cheekily whispering, “Come, come, hold my hand and let’s go see the sun together.”
“Nasty little hair… I’m letting you go now. I’ll be back in the clinic in a couple of days,” Anjali reprimands that one annoying strand of hair as she looks at her otherwise smooth leg.
Anjali quickly goes back to her coffee. She feels that other people in the café are not really minding their own business. Whatever, she thinks. She stares back at them. They turn their eyes away and laugh. They might actually not notice that she’s around; it’s her mind that is doing the usual trick.
Anjali takes out her iPhone and goes to check on her Path. One nasty one to go, she writes on her status update. It’s one of the things she likes to do while trying to finish her writing.
It’s the hottest time of the day; the sun is descending and yet still far away from reaching the horizon.