ASH THUNDER
Jirogzyyour gaze hits the side of my facelet him chase yourun towards the lightchasing his scentless mate
Everywhere I turn, men and women are coupled up, their bodies almost glued to each other.
I squint at them, trying to see if anyone looks familiar, but try as I might, there's no one I know. That's when it hits me - the men aren't students. It's clear in the protruding paunch in their stomachs as well as the lines on their faces. These are older men, well above the thirty years of age bracket. The women, who by the way, are skimpily dressed, are younger-looking, more my age, but they're happily curled up in the arms of the men, as if. . .they're love interests.
That's when it hits me.
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