Desi Aunty Caught By Handy Camera

He was a short, dapper man with gray hair and a charming smile. Pete introduced us to him and we chatted for several minutes between sets. I hadn't heard of the guy before, but Pete was amazed that the fellow was playing a small club with a four-piece combo. The guy laughed and told Pete and I that he did it for kicks. While we were chatting, he mentioned he was always looking for new, original compositions for his 'real' band, a 39-piece orchestra that was currently between tours. I told him about my roomie Mary and the competition she had won. He smiled and told me to have her send him something to read. After getting the name of the hotel he was staying at, I excitedly dashed home to tell Mary."Who?" She asked, again, her gray eyes big and round."I never heard of him, either," I explained, dunking a cookie in a glass of milk, a nightly ritual for me. "But he wants you to send him 'something to read'. I assume that means music. He wants a fully scored orchestral piece, about a half. I just stared at my TV, a rectangular glare from my window shining in the upper right corner. I didn't have the strength to do anything. Frustrated pain rose through me, stinging my eyes. I squeezed them shut, fighting the emotion wanting to spill out of me. The back of my throat burned. My teeth ground together.“You got a package,” Alison said.“What?” I opened my eyes to see my sister walking in through my open door, wearing a pair of jeans and a frilly, pink shirt. She closed it behind her with a push of her sock-clad foot.“A package,” she said, holding a brown box in it. “I think a drone delivered it. I thought I saw it flying over the Wilson's house.”Drone? The text message popped into my mind. But I just didn't care because I saw what was on the pack: the bright blue ice pack. Alison set the box on the floor then she scooped off the ice pack and pulled up my t-shirt. She winced, shaking her head, her eyes growing watery. She placed the pack down on one of those pulsing, throbbing.
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