" I slowly said as he walked in the door. "Hey son." He said equally slowly. I heard running, "Daddy!" My sister yelled as she ran up to hug him. "Ho... was your day?" She asked. "It was fine," he replied. "Fine then grumpy pants, I'm going back to my room." She said while she walked to her room. I also walked back to my room. I felt like taking a shower, so I walked to the bathroom at the end of the hall. The door was cracked so I thought no one was inside. I walked in-only to find brown hair. The man shook his head to show that our tardiness was not a problem. He ushered us inside and closed the door behind us.The house was larger than I had expected. And it had already looked large from the outside. A lot of the furniture had been moved to the walls to make room for people to meander throughout the house.“You look very attractive, Mrs. Timal,” Anthony said to my wife. Which was true. She was in her mid-to-late thirties but hadn’t begun to age in the places where people found most. But that's what friends are for."That's what friends are for.On this one particular occasion, for some unexplained reason, they had invited Amanda along for a late-night drive. Deep in the expensive neighborhoods of a far-eastern suburb of the city, they pulled into a long, winding driveway. With a theatrical flourish, Arlene rang the doorbell. HE opened the door, but didn't seem to notice Amanda -- a geeky, pimply, chubby fifteen-year old, dressed in mismatched dress and blouse, staring up at. My idea got approved, so we tasted them… or better tried to. They were so hot we almost got our mouths burnt. So we decided to add only one single chili to the chutney, and to cut a few additional slices for whoever wanted to add some more on their plate. As soon as this was done she told me the chutney needed to boil twenty minutes more before we could mash it and we'd better wash our hands very carefully meanwhile in order not to ruin our eyes while rubbing them. Before I could wet my hands.
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