Short Stories

A Little Chorus of Love: Love through Ages by Shashank Tiwari, Preethi Venugopala, Anmol Rawat, Tina Basu,

By Shashank Tiwari, Preethi Venugopala, Anmol Rawat, Tina Basu, Soumyaa Verma, Niranjan Navalgund, Aathira Jim, Deepti Menon, Vinodini Iyer

What's love? The query brews 1000000 diverse solutions. Love isn't really an entity. it truly is an emotion that embraces a number of colorings and colors inside of. 'A Little refrain of affection – Love via Ages' easily follows an identical thought and assembles 24 varied writers portraying love in a sort they recognize the best.

Immerse your self into the main strong emotion with 24 various tales set in numerous time sessions and consider your middle beat for that one specified individual on your existence.

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Extra info for A Little Chorus of Love: Love through Ages

Example text

Mrs Owen smiled sweetly and Derek returned her smile with warmth, giving her his arm. They set off slowly down the street. 'This is very convenient, Jennie. ' Jennie conceded the point, nodding sweetly, but fuming inside. Mrs Owen would be sure to invite Derek in for tea, and somehow that would lead to an invasion of her territory. She trembled with apprehension. Meanwhile Derek chatted pleasantly to Mrs Owen and gave her his arm. Jennie glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He seemed to be totally engaged in the conversation.

There,' she said. ' The small warm body came close to hers and scrutinised the picture. Then the round eyes looked up at her. ' Jennie laughed at the child's audacity and handed her the box of pastels and a sheet of paper. Very seriously she drew Jennie—a figure sitting stark upright in a chair, strands of hair all but covering big black eyes. 'There,' said the little girl. ' Jennie did so and handed the little girl her portrait. 'A fair exchange,' she said, glancing up at the mother, who wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or proud.

Small rough strokes traced the shape in front of her. She looked up and met Derek's gaze. He was staring at her acutely, as if he were the artist, not she. Yes, Jennie thought suddenly, that was why men wouldn't on the whole pose for women. It reversed all suppositions, both about art and life. Drawing Derek, she was actively possessing him, shaping him, while he had to remain at least momentarily passive. She traced the angular line of his jaw, the oddly sensual lower lip, the wide somewhat feline eyes, and then, meeting them, realised he was resisting her, still watching her vigilantly.

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