a.k.a. The One in Which the Ghost is Toast
History was her favorite subject at school. The one that bumped up her social sciences average and had Mrs. Shah chastise her for asking too many uncomfortable questions.The one that had fiercely anal retentive Prof. Naqvi pardon her absence from his special brand of exam torture. The one that earned her the title ‘H-bomb Queen’. The one for which she risked being called a nerd. The one she collected extra credits for, while others collected lovers.
So when her own turned ghoulish, and swooped through cobwebbed corridors, moaning her name and breathing moldy angst on her nape, she stumbled through silent alleys on her disjointed knee, mentally zipping up that chapter, sealing the plastic with duct tape, and tossed the file backwards at him, never again glancing at his grey, disfigured face.
Or so she thought.
(…to be continued….sometime, someplace)
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
My eyes were riveted to the screen and I was reading with bated breath when suddenly….
OJ! Hurry up with part 2 already!
M4: Oh but M4, it hasn’t come to me yet. *flipping fingers through the air and looking all writerly.*
haha haha H-bomb queen hmmmm
History is as scary as a child wearing a Halloween mask. Remove the mask and you get a cuddly mass of joy…
vaibhav: Yeah, among other things. 😉
grimescene: I forgot to mention she suffers from frozen fingers.
sorry but got distracted right at the start of your post…
naqvi taught you? we have loads to talk next time we meet. 🙂
surabhi: Yes. 🙂 Don’t assume the rest of the post is about me, though.