“It's a star part I am offering you. The beautiful, slinky agente provocatrice.”

When the weather worsened, the pilot elected to scud run and flew into a hill three miles past the end of the runway. I wisely elected to wait until conditions improved.

Deeti gave her daughter the job of sweeping the poppy petals into a heap while she busied herself in stoking the fire and heating a heavy iron tawa.

I’m a lonely old man; I lead a life that I don’t like, among boon companions, who make me melancholy.