Delay Is For The Dead

Her mother opened it for me with a huge smile, "Hello Amrita! Look at you all well."

I was enveloped in a warm hug, and pressed for breakfast. Despite my protests, I was made to sit down on the dining table, where Zara was gorging on freshly buttered Paranthas – A popular Indian food. They smelled heavenly and I caught Armaan give it a rueful look.

I wanted to ask him if he misses food but couldn't in the present company.

"It is okay, enjoy your breakfast," he answered my unspoken question. "I am used to this now."

"Babe, what are you staring at?" Zara asked with a concerned expression, examining the place where Armaan was standing.

"Err nothing." I spoke and took a bite. "My God, these are delicious! Especially after the hospital trash I was made to eat."

"Yes, but only one for you. Doctors advised against too much oily stuff."

I relented and Zara pointed at a covered dish on the table indicating boring omelet and then handed me a bowl filled with multiple colored pellets.

"What's with this rainbow?" I asked examining the pills, they were so many.

"These are your pills sweetie; now eat quickly so that we can leave. Miranda will kill me if I am late – you're the only one who can use the hospital as an excuse." Her words brought me back to the reality.

Miranda was our perfectionist boss who was part-German and was stricter than a military sergeant. Her motto for life was, "If you are alive you can't be late. Delay is for the dead." We both hated her.

Thankfully, our office was only a ten-minute walk away. We were both lucky in this regard. The rent was abominable, but Zara's father was in real-estate and I had a sweet deal.

Zara started again in a minute. "Are you okay with walking?"

I tried not to get irritated. "Yes, Zara."

"Are you sure?" Armaan asked again from the other side. He was walking beside me on the road, and cars frequently went through him. His safety bothered me for a second but instantly I realized he is a ghost, so I eyed him, irked and simply nodded.