A story in India

A story in India

Robin Foale, 24/4/2013

It's November in India and the sun is shining down on its residents. It's like the Sahara for those on the streets; seeking shaded shelter where they can and buying cans of Tango buy the bucketful. A man who isn't native to the country drives down the empty streets. With his air conditioning on max he wipes the sweat off his forehead. Despite the heat he has decided to drive in a car with leather seats as it was the only transportation available to him. His back clings to the seat making him uncomfortable, but he continues to drive. Soon he approaches the Foxtrot Hotel, the destination for his meeting with Coronal Yankee. An odd name for a man from India, but one the colonel takes with pride. As the foreigner pulls up to the hotel he is greeted by an employee who takes his keys in order to park the car. The sweating man agrees to this and gets out, the back of his shirt and trousers peeling off the leather seat. He looks over to the lobby where sure enough a little girl in pig tails runs up to him. 
"Papa! Papa!" she cries out cheerfully throwing her arms around the man and hugging him tightly before letting go.
"You smell!" she says with a giggle to which the father puts his hands on his sides with a smile. 
"Ha ha! Very funny child" he says with a chuckle before looking around in the empty lobby. 
Every fan seems to be switched on.