I had no other option to go collect the bill.“Bhabhi! Pramila Bhabhi!” I called her before knocking the door. But the moment I pushed the door fle... wide open. I looked around but there was no one in the hall. As I walked in, I could here someone singing, someone from the bedroom.The electricity bill and the cheque was on the table but I was curious to find out who was singing. Their bedroom didn’t have a door, but just a curtain. I pulled the curtain apart slightly to see that it was Pramila. ..Quebec ... near the Atlantic, next to Ontario, the Great Lakes...No, I don't know these places.Never mind then, I'm from Canada...Ah! Canada! Canada I know! So why you tell me you come from Quebec?Because, my first country is Quebec!Oh, you were born in Quebec and immigrated to Canada...No, no, I was born in Quebec and I stayed in Quebec...Oh, then your father is from Canada?No, no, my father, my mother, my wife, my dog, everybody, they come from Quebec...So why you say Canada?For Christ. “I expect you might get warm, so you will probably find these the most comfortable. You can change up in our room, or the bathroom.” Jonathan downed his drink, and picking up the clothes, went upstairs. He couldn’t find the bathroom so went into the parents’ bedroom. There was a nice perfumed smell. He started to strip off and glanced around the room. There were two large framed pictures of her and her husband, on the wall. They looked as though they had been taken on a romantic weekend. Both. Yes, that word fit him better than any human she had ever known. He was macho. A super stud. An ape to put all human males to shame. What the hell had she been missing all her life that she had found in his arms?And why was she lying here now dreaming about it when she should be planning her escape? Survival was possible in the jungle. If only she could keep a clear head about it.There were shoes to be fashioned out of the broad palm leaves. She would work them together by splitting the vines.
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