Read Online Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) by Lester Suggs - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lester Suggs
Ads: Link
slight squeeze of surprise. “How may I help you Suresh?”
"I have an invitation to Itishree's party from Deepa Ekhande,” Suresh replied a little sheepishly.
He showed the invitation to Mala. Yes, it was Deepa's script. She would have words with Deepa later, the snake of a sister.
"Please join us, Suresh, Itishree will be surprised to see you,” Mala said. Will she ever.
At least now she didn't have to search for Itishree. Mala merely needed to follow Suresh.
"Thank you, Mrs. Aledar,” Suresh replied.
He gleamed through a smile so wide Mala thought it must have hurt. Mala extended the door's opening, and Suresh bounded through. She followed on his heels and with an eye out for Deepa, the Scourge of Pune.’
Mala saw it didn't take long for Suresh to find Itishree. A look of anguish, mixed with surprise and a pinch of resentment, was there to greet Suresh. Once Mala saw that Itishree was more interested in her feet than the small talk Suresh was trying to attempt, she moved in like a skilled jaguar.
”Before you and Suresh get reacquainted, I need help with the last of the party food.” Mala said.
Itishree, nodding to the point her head nearly popped off, followed her mother to the kitchen without a word.
"Who invited Suresh, Mother? We spoke about this.” Itishree demanded once securely behind the kitchen doors.
"Look to your Auntie,” Mala shot back, pointing in no particular direction.
Itishree growled and began peeling the remaining fruit.
An awkward silence froze the space between them. Neither had to voice the words they both felt. Mala came to Deepa's defense first.
“Deepa obviously sent out the invitation before we last spoke,” Mala protested, knowing Itishree was furious.
“But Suresh! He is the last person I wanted to see here! My last day!" Itishree said. Her eyes sparkled threatening tears.
“Calm down, don't cut your thumbs off,” Mala said softly to Itishree. She took the knife from her daughter’s hand. “You’re going to have to tell him again.”
Itishree wiped her nose on her sleeve and picked at the food. She didn't like the idea of having to tell Suresh she'd put her career ahead of marriage, again. Watching Suresh wilt was not the measure of guilt Itishree wanted to taste before getting on a plane for America.
Just then Deepa banged through the closed door and rolled over it with her hips. She had an empty tray in her hand and a celery stalk locked in her teeth. Itishree stopped and shot Deepa her worst daggered glare.
Mala launched into “Suresh! You sent Suresh an invite! He was off the list.”
Deepa's eyebrows banged against her hairline as she switched her empty tray for a full one and sprang for the door.
"We are going to talk, sister!" Mala barked as Deepa disappeared into the living room with its sounds of talking, music, and laughter.
Hard Data
Larry Green was giddy. He used to believe he had one of the coolest jobs on the planet. The sheen had worn off a year ago when the fresh students arrived. No, tonight Larry was giddy because the latest Iron Man comic had arrived. He placed his dinner into the microwave and headed off to his locker for his pack and the beloved Iron Man Vol.1, issue #227, still in the plastic mailer. After searching all online media outlets and dead-end correspondence, the issue was finally his. The months of searching and waiting were over. Now, in the silence of his grave-yard shift at the Institute of Astronomy on the University of Hawaii grounds, with his leftover pasta and bottled water, Larry would savor every page, every frame of primary colored joy. Sure, the digital versions were available now, and yes the various tablet computers made them convenient and highly portable; however, nothing, nothing was like holding the comic in your hands.
Collecting the gray plastic mailer, Larry headed back to the break room. He heard the “ding” of the microwave. Larry turned and made for his desk. He would not risk carrying the
"I have an invitation to Itishree's party from Deepa Ekhande,” Suresh replied a little sheepishly.
He showed the invitation to Mala. Yes, it was Deepa's script. She would have words with Deepa later, the snake of a sister.
"Please join us, Suresh, Itishree will be surprised to see you,” Mala said. Will she ever.
At least now she didn't have to search for Itishree. Mala merely needed to follow Suresh.
"Thank you, Mrs. Aledar,” Suresh replied.
He gleamed through a smile so wide Mala thought it must have hurt. Mala extended the door's opening, and Suresh bounded through. She followed on his heels and with an eye out for Deepa, the Scourge of Pune.’
Mala saw it didn't take long for Suresh to find Itishree. A look of anguish, mixed with surprise and a pinch of resentment, was there to greet Suresh. Once Mala saw that Itishree was more interested in her feet than the small talk Suresh was trying to attempt, she moved in like a skilled jaguar.
”Before you and Suresh get reacquainted, I need help with the last of the party food.” Mala said.
Itishree, nodding to the point her head nearly popped off, followed her mother to the kitchen without a word.
"Who invited Suresh, Mother? We spoke about this.” Itishree demanded once securely behind the kitchen doors.
"Look to your Auntie,” Mala shot back, pointing in no particular direction.
Itishree growled and began peeling the remaining fruit.
An awkward silence froze the space between them. Neither had to voice the words they both felt. Mala came to Deepa's defense first.
“Deepa obviously sent out the invitation before we last spoke,” Mala protested, knowing Itishree was furious.
“But Suresh! He is the last person I wanted to see here! My last day!" Itishree said. Her eyes sparkled threatening tears.
“Calm down, don't cut your thumbs off,” Mala said softly to Itishree. She took the knife from her daughter’s hand. “You’re going to have to tell him again.”
Itishree wiped her nose on her sleeve and picked at the food. She didn't like the idea of having to tell Suresh she'd put her career ahead of marriage, again. Watching Suresh wilt was not the measure of guilt Itishree wanted to taste before getting on a plane for America.
Just then Deepa banged through the closed door and rolled over it with her hips. She had an empty tray in her hand and a celery stalk locked in her teeth. Itishree stopped and shot Deepa her worst daggered glare.
Mala launched into “Suresh! You sent Suresh an invite! He was off the list.”
Deepa's eyebrows banged against her hairline as she switched her empty tray for a full one and sprang for the door.
"We are going to talk, sister!" Mala barked as Deepa disappeared into the living room with its sounds of talking, music, and laughter.
Hard Data
Larry Green was giddy. He used to believe he had one of the coolest jobs on the planet. The sheen had worn off a year ago when the fresh students arrived. No, tonight Larry was giddy because the latest Iron Man comic had arrived. He placed his dinner into the microwave and headed off to his locker for his pack and the beloved Iron Man Vol.1, issue #227, still in the plastic mailer. After searching all online media outlets and dead-end correspondence, the issue was finally his. The months of searching and waiting were over. Now, in the silence of his grave-yard shift at the Institute of Astronomy on the University of Hawaii grounds, with his leftover pasta and bottled water, Larry would savor every page, every frame of primary colored joy. Sure, the digital versions were available now, and yes the various tablet computers made them convenient and highly portable; however, nothing, nothing was like holding the comic in your hands.
Collecting the gray plastic mailer, Larry headed back to the break room. He heard the “ding” of the microwave. Larry turned and made for his desk. He would not risk carrying the
Similar Books
