A thing called Love
Story written from a random plot given by a friend: Castaway, Dream catcher, Post box, Nail color.
The city was under siege. Mother Nature was unleashing her fury. Such torrential rain had not been seen in a 100 years. The city was drowning. Breached lakes, overflowing sewage, furious sea, and the relentless rain. There was an overwhelming sense of despair among the rich and the poor alike. But I wasn’t worried. I was in fact mildly happy. Only two days back, I had moved into my new apartment. The apartment was thankfu...