As Monish stepped into the church yard, his eyes fell on the water fountain at the center. He had no idea how the memory came unbidden and he silently flipped a one pound coin into the fountain.
Ahh, those Sunday afternoons by the Hooghly river - as his 'gang' frolicked under the railway bridge, strategically poised to dive and collect the 25 and 50 paise coins that the train passengers dropped into the holy river as the express trains zoomed past. the very thought of those puchkas and kala khata golas that they relished later with the collected 'bounty' made his mouth water
So lost was Monish in these thoughts that he didn't see the church cleaner walking up. The next moment a five dollar fine receipt was thrust in front of his face for vandalising the premises!
This piece of fiction is in response to the below pic prompt at WT
This piece of fiction is in response to the below pic prompt at WT