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Quote by Pragya Tiwari

“He beams, ‘Legos, I just love it. I wanted so badly, and Mummy said I would get on my birthday. Thanks.’ He rushes to kiss my cheeks. I wonder how effortlessly kids express their emotions.”

Quote by Pragya Tiwari

Book:Outlet from Loneliness
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Outlet from Loneliness

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Pragya Tiwari

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“Drew was focused on a hundred details at once: like the fact that her hand had dropped to his, and that her body was pressed up against his side; that her fingers were warm in the cool night air, and that her skin looked silver in the moonlight. Drew’s gaze flickered up. The bruise on Tess’s jaw was gone, her blue eyes dark and entrancing. “So are you going to do it?” she asked. Drew frowned. “Do what?” “Jesus, Drew,” she said with a nervous laugh. “You gonna kiss me or not?” His hands slid around her waist, pulling her against him. Tess’s eyes widened, lips parting. “Yeah,” Drew whispered. “I am...”

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“Nothing felt like mine anymore, not after you. All those little things that defined me; small sentimental trinkets, car keys, pin codes, and passwords. They all felt like you. And more than anything else, my number - the one you boldly asked for that night, amidst a sea of people, under a sky of talking satellites and glowing stars. You said no matter how many times you erased me from your phone, you would still recognize that number when it flashed on your screen. The series of sixes and nines, like the dip of my waist to the curves of my hips, your hands pressed into the small of my back. Nines and sixes that were reminiscent of two contented cats, curled together like a pair of speech marks. You said if you could never hold me or kiss me again, you could live with that. But you couldn't bear the thought of us not speaking and asked, at the very least, could I allow you that one thing? I wonder what went through your mind the day you dialed my number to find it had been disconnected. If your imagination had raced with thoughts of what new city I run to and who was sharing my bed. Isn't it strange how much of our lives are interchangeable, how little is truly ours. Someone else's ring tone, someone else's broken heart. These are the things we inherit by choice or by chance. And it wasn't my choice to love you but it was mine to leave. I don't think the moon ever meant to be a satellite, kept in loving orbit, locked in hopeless inertia, destined to repeat the same pattern over and over - to meet in eclipse with the sun - only when the numbers allowed.”

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“it’s like . . . finding a book inside another book. A small treasure of a book hidden inside a big common one—like . . . spells printed on dragonfly wings, discovered tucked inside a cookery book, right between the recipes for cabbages and corn. That’s what a kiss is like, he thought, no matter how brief: It’s a tiny, magical story, and a miraculous interruption of the mundane.”

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“Thank you," she said. Before he could reply, she stood on her toes, braced her palms on his hard chest, and pressed her lips to his smooth-shaven cheek. Hunter was very still, his breath catching slightly. The kiss was chaste by any standards, but when she drew back to look at Hunter, he wore an absorbed, intent look. Their gazes met, and a wry grin twisted his lips. "For one of those I'd swim the channel," he said, and headed in the direction of the library.”

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