Pocket Stories #5

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“I brought a mixtape,” Humaya informed as she pushed her three bags in the car. Vrati frowned.

“I didn’t know that we were leaving for six years,” she said sardonically.

“Haha, very funny,” Humaya replied. Then sighing as if suddenly exhausted, said, “Besides after the ceremony, won’t we be leaving forever?”

As she said this, the ring on her hand sparkled under the sun, and Vrati understood. She was glad they were leaving.

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