DEVIL’s GRIP
“One more hour? The whole world is outside playing Holi, and my granddaughter wants to sleep? At least get up and take a bath!”
Hema peeked out from under the pillow, her eyes half-open. “I don’t need a bath. I need peace,” she mumbled, covering her eyes again.
Just then, a loud group of kids ran past their apartment window, throwing pichkaris (water guns) full of colored water at each other, their giggles echoing through the streets.
Hema groaned louder, sitting up dramatically. “Why do people have to enjoy so much? Just for one day, can they not scream so early in the morning?” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes.
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