“Be careful…be very very careful,” growled Sara in a low voice, as she crouched low to the ground, and pulled at her three-month old son Tinu’s ear by her teeth. The two of them were in a hunting expedition, trying, as they often did, to catch, what Tinu’s father Raina would frustratingly refer to as ‘those irritating pigeon lot which thinks itself a superior race to dogkind’. Eight year old Sara and the hirsute almost a decade-old Raina formed one ferocious pair and their rule over the fifty odd dogs that roamed the busy dusty streets of Marol, was imperious. They were deferentially referred to as THE DOG and THE BITCH by all.
Thus starts my latest attempt at a story. Await, and might be a long timel, the entire version.
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