eFiction India eFiction India Vol.02 Issue.09 | Page 25

STORIES

time in those stripy pyjamas. You remember that day, don’t you old sport?”
That brought out a chuckle from the
great philosopher, who took a moment to
answer after wiping off soup dripping off
his chin. “Tim, my dear, it seems time flies
by with the chirping swallow, doesn’t it?
Remember Michael Goode?” Not waiting
for an answer, he took another sip.
The waiter then arrived to take away the
plates and a few more minutes passed
as they decided upon the main course.
Timothy had a certain liking for a dish
called goulash that people seemed to favour
in this area, so he thought of trying that out
on a day like this. The teacher, on the other
hand, was happy enough with two helpings
of the Caesar salad. They waited, glancing
patiently at each other till the waiter had
taken their orders and was out of earshot.
Tim looked closely at his professor. His face
was wrinkled and concentrated, while his
hand had dangerous veins sprouting out.
And it seemed that the class of ’89 was itself
in the diner, listening raptly to every word
the old man had to say.
Without warning, the drivers had decided
to bring out the lights as the stars came out.
It was night-time and barely half an hour
was left for the fireworks to colour the sky.
Just as he was about to call for the waiter
to ask on the status, their order came. Tim
got his piping hot goulash and the professor his salad. “Here you go, sir. Would you
gentlemen like anything else?”
“No thank you, waiter dear,” said Evans
and even Tim was surprised by his tone. It
was a bit on the harsh side, but not seemin