One was an old Solingen straight razor, the blade gray and dull with minute flecks of surface rust here and there. When he picked it up and slid the blade open with a practiced turn of his thumb, a myriad of memories came to him, as if they were fighting to be recognized first. It was given to him a long time ago, by someone who was now gone. She had given it to him because she knew he collected old razors. ‘If only she had known what my life would become, and the things I would do with this old thing. What would she think of me?’ He pondered to himself, closing the razor and gingerly sitting it down. Next to the razor sat a pair of forty-caliber revolvers nestled snugly in pancake holsters, his ‘forties’ as he called them. The term revolver wasn’t entirely fair, as by all practical means they were hand-held cannons. The guns themselves weren’t entirely spectacular though they were expensive and well-made, but the ammunition he used was in itself quite menacing. He would spend hours. All of this started to die down as both of us walked in search for transport.Finally about 15-20 minutes after we came out I could see an auto approaching us. I had no choice but to wave my hand and stop the auto. He stopped close to us and leaned out to speak. I was grabbing Akanksha by her waist to control her a little. She kept humming some song. She was drunk and wasn’t in her senses.I somehow managed to control her. I told the auto driver about the destination. It was about 28 km from there and he refused straight away. I pleaded with him to go and offered a thousand bucks for a ride that normally cost four hundred. Even Akanksha started to plead him in a seductive tone. He was in two minds.I could see his eyes glued to her cleavage and finally he agreed. He seemed to be a guy in his late 30’s. Both of us got onto the back seat and thanked him. The journey started. I had wrapped my arm around Akanksha and she was leaning on my shoulder. She was turned on like hell and wanted to.
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