A man sits in an autorikshaw. There is a chair, put upside down, on the seat next to him. His hand lies on the chair, to hold onto it, so it doesn’t fall. Is it for safety, he holds on to it? Or is he caressing it, sweetly, gently, lovingly. Is he going to go home, make dinner for it, blow out the candles and make sweet love to it? The autorikshaw clatters away, and out of sight.
[A/N: Don't you judge me. ]
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