Kripa stopped scrolling. It must spam, he thought. Who in India has a name called "Maxi" - like an aunty's night dress. He smiled. Lets see what it sells - junior enlargement or an address to cash in the millions he had won as lottery in Siberia. That brought out a chuckle. Another casual click and he started reading.
And continued for the next ten minutes. Words , sentences , paragraphs and pages flew by. He had connected intimately with the world inside the email.
It was a story , or atleast an installment of it . Installment seemed too technical. It was a slice of a tale and the sender - Maxi.
He looked up from his laptop and gazed blindly outside of his window. His mind still watching the tale. The characters in the tale was alive in his mind. He continued to watch them well in to the wee hours of the morning. His mind was racing, his sould suddenly alive.
He looked back down at his now slumbering laptop screen. He wanted to see who sent it . - Maxi.
a rather unusual name. Does not say if it was a man or a woman, or a child for that matter. For now, he didnt want to know. All he wanted to know was what happened next.