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Short Story Contest 2020-21

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The fragrance of wet earth had floated around deliciously since they had arisen. This had induced Father to take several deep breaths. The outcome of this exercise was so rewarding that he had, more or less, decided to do an advanced course in yogic stress management. Some of the birds perched on the trees had been drying themselves. There seemed to have been a shower in the vicinity. The clouds had hung low, quite ready to unload any moment. The breeze was active, too. Father whistled a gentle tune. Towards the end of it, the drops began to fall. The cat streaked in from somewhere and settled down on the ‘welcome’ mat. Assuming incredible postures, it began to lick the wet patches on its sleek coat. Mother scampered out to rescue the pickle bottles and Daughter hastily followed to bring in the dolls that had been…