|Posted on 19 April, 2015 at 9:50|
"What you do?" He asked.
"Am a writer," I said and carefully took my coffee mug to sip the latte. It tasted blunt, I tore one sugar sachet among the four.
He admired my furrow over the sugarless coffee, which I did notice but ignored for the sake of it. He smiled and said, "Well am a reader,"
The moment he uttered the word, I stopped stirring, but the coffee didn't
Categories: Micro Stories and Short Stories