Just one finely usual day of August. A yet to dew-dry morning, already awoken up birds, and a brightly shining Sun like a hundred watt bulb. How peaceful !
In the mean-peace-time, a ruckus is going on in a fairly empty house, or rather say a flat of an apartment. A young lady is sleeping in her bed, pillows over ears , enduring an old lady's continuous nagging.
The old is called the Grandma of the young lady, named Anning. What can be more usual than this.
Her Grandma's name...
Don't look at me , how would I know.
She's your grandma.
So what ! , I call her 'grandma' , not by her name. She will beat me to death.
[ Oh , don't worry. She talks with her own mind . Not minding the company of anyone else. ]
And either way I'm not a toddler , who after getting lost in a fair, need to be asked," who's your grandma child " , "what's her name" , etc. and etc. So why bother to remember.
"......."
In this back-and-for..., forth-and-forth , the wall clock struck to half past six o'clock. Anning , removing the pillows from her ears, sat groggily on the edge of the bed.
Her grandma was still shouting from the doorway of the kitchen.
Anning didn't uttered a single word, without even going to freshen up, picked up the broom from under her bed and moved to the hall , while rubbing her eyes.
Her apartment was a simple one, not so luxurious, with three bedroom