The Magic of Warmth

I glanced at my wrist watch again. I was sitting at the metro station in my formal office wear for two hours now. Supposedly her colleagues had decided to surprise her on her birthday party with a butterscotch cake shaped like a Pikachu. That is what I was receiving on my messenger – the photos of the surprise celebration. Apparently, the pictures were supposed to calm me down. “It would be rude to leave without a little celebration,” she had said. Of course, she was right, but I was not up f...