My very first Shot Story.
Bhola returned to his spot on the sidewalk on Friday morning, utterly exhausted and covered in pink paint. His beatific smile couldn’t have betrayed the fact that he had just spent several excruciating hours daubing every single leaf on a long row of bushes with paint that he had silently pilfered, all while steering clear of cops or any unwanted attention.
He collapsed and slept, dreaming of the honours that would soon be bestowed upon him.
He awoke that evening, spruced himself up and waited eagerly for his next task. The voices told him that this fine evening, he was to steal as many guavas as he could from the neighbourhood market and throw them into open house windows till the sun came up.
With the faint stirrings of dawn and after a close brush with an irritated Pomeranian, Bhola called it a night, ate his sole remaining guava and returned to the pavement to sleep.
Now they decide upon his next task, so they can continue to have their spot of fun.
“It’s my turn today.”
“Shut it, you got to choose just 2 days ago!”
“Quit squabbling. Let her have her turn.”
In a manner most unbecoming of deities, they bicker in their portraits above the sleeping figure of Bhola, deciding on that night’s mischief.