The Stray bullets - Crime story set in an innocent hazy town in 2037. A work in progress.

2037, the town Korutla has Inaugurated its biggest skyscraper..."The Ashoka." It is 288 metres tall! Just a little more to reach the rustic Eiffel tower's height. A mysterious corporation owns that building, nobody knows who. Maybe some lawyers do. It looks upon the unsuspecting people of the town. It Should've looked beautiful, but it's asymmetric design troubles eyes. Looks like an Ashoka tree, close to a long Christmas tree. The 'leaves' are green panes of glass and metal, chiming in the winds. The sound too makes a familiar music. I'm sure it was composed deliberately to manipulate moods. Not sure if it was for making one happier or lamer though. I'm friends with some of the staff working in the Ashoka. Priya has a desk job over the second floor. Jagdeep is one of the many janitors. We all see each other some evenings at the tea-spot joined to the bus-stop. The town's municipality made the bus-stop too lively like an old, but new tavern. The shades of it are so dark chocolate that I can only think of chocolate. It was deputy mayor samriddhi who supervised designs and colors. She likes to go by Sam, and is the youngest potential mayor of Korutla they say. I agree as she's an idol to me. She's got a pretty famous art portfolio and made me a "Map of mythical creatures of India" in 2027. Its still in prestine condition, thanks to Dad framing it for me. I was at the cozy bus-stop where the haze of rain made every light look bokeh. The Halogen bulbs in the background do splash the scene with the most romantic yellow-orange bubbles. Black-Moustached Modi has been the only and favourite tea-maker here. He only asks preferences on the first day and remembers like an elephant! "The usual my friend?" He greets of everybody. He asked the same of me too. I like my tea with bournvita instead of sugar. I wish I knew people's preferances. Those two guys from The skyscraper, Priya and jagdeep, got intrigued at different times about what I was having. "His tea has an overly sweet fragrance Anna!" Inspected Jagdeep in naive interest. Priya noticed my tea is darker than every other steaming glass. They say women have more evolved eyes than men and can differentiate more shades comparatively. Her noticing that proved it. It's a good community we make at 5:30 PM at the artsy bus-stop. We get there, have and gift tea to friendlies, Most of us, if not all, thank modi for de-stressing them, deposit the tiny glasses and hop onto the bus. "How is Modi's tea THAT good?" I asked myself just now. Is he mixing something extra in his tea? I read they used to mix cocaine in Coca-cola in the beginning. Surely Modi wouldn't dare! A reminder to ask modi the secret behind the soothing drinks I just set on my phone. People are boarding the bus, same places for everybodies. I'm seated grazing through the right-window, the bus-stop side. The wide electric bus moves. Oh! Would you look at that...Modi's waving us goodbyes. What a sweet man. Our bus driver Biswa is fond of Moustaches. He and modi were romantics in the past. Biswa's a seasoned man in my eyes. He shares stories of how he toured the evolving India by only being a bus-driver. He believes himself to be one of the most toured bus-masters. Was even busted for drifting the bus and Modi bailed him out a couple years ago. All these people are young at heart. I try to be the best observer in korutla. I Even have a club of people with me that practise the art of deduction. I'm heading to the club now. The mosaic club. Its three blocks away from the present bus-stop. The bus left me on the left side of the street, inside the roof of a bus-stop. I'm the only person there, as is the norm. It's raining so softly. The tiniest droplets, it feels like a spray from the barber's. Walking down the hazy streets, I feel like there's no I'll intentions lurking. Most of us respect random wandering folks as it had been a norm for people to calm themselves. Makes me feel safe. The few windows are always lit pink and green and blue. The leaking lights from those windows make it look like a similarly colored projector wants to show me the play of water. The patter too adds to the mood. Now, in this spray of rain, all the colorful lights make droplets so much visible. I like how the rain flickers just inside the light's way. The black granite streets, and concrete pathway contrasts well with the play of light happening in the chilly monsoons. Thank Dad for the warm coat. I'm cozyly walking in the rain, the sprays of the weather petting me all over. I allow myself to move forward from this kaleidoscope street. A faint pop I hear from the very distant. Another, sharp sound! It was breaking glass. I look back, upwards to my left. An orange bubble popped and I could tell sharp glass shards from the soft raindrops. A scream from a man made him visible to myself and two more shadows from the distance. It seems like a suited man in his mid thirties was walking just below the sharp shower of glass bits! All three of us strangers hurried to aid. He's seating himself a metre safe from the messy floor, tucking his chin. He's bleeding. A long shard from one of the popped halogen bulbs had darted itself in the poor man's temple. The rain washes the blood from his bleeding side of his forehead. An old man who hurried towards the unlucky fellow's scream says in a scared, panting tone "Good god man! You could've lost an ear!". "Never mind the ear, he could've lost an eye or worse, both!" Says a woman. She herself looks to be around her late 50s. The precautious type of people. She's got an umbrella that was big enough to cover the three of them. Raviji, the old woman and the bleeding man under the big shade, me to the side. Raviji turns his phone's flash on, I do the same. "Are kids upto mischief this time of night?! The old man interrupts again. I'll look to the core of it." The old lady discusses, "Na na, Raviji, it must be the rain's mischief. I heard two pops. Another bulb must've blasted too. Surely the electricity is fluctuating. The voltage happening so, is so not good for bulbs from the 2010s. The old man agrees. I remember everything good about the 2010s. I look to the seated guy's thin laptop-bag. It has his name stitched bright yellow on it. "Lavan" it reads. In this seconds, another lady my age too has gathered with her bullmastiff doggie. Those two were taking a walk in this movie-weather surely. She asks if the injured suit wanted to go to the hospital? "Haan Lavan?" I added. The old woman ducks down furthermore to make herself look available towards a trip to the hospital. Raviji too ducks in realization. The suit agrees. "Are you familiar with the way sir?" I ask him. He says slowly, Yes, I am, chin still tucked in. "Oh, I'll walk you dear" the old woman says. You did see I was heading that way but got towards you without expecting so many bruises on you. A part of me did expect the worst. The suit giggles. Says "Well, someone is always having it worse than me." I wanna get this looked at by a doctor now, let me just." Raviji looks for shards on the guy's suit, and starts carefully dusting those with his handkerchief. He's done a fine job. Lavan and the old woman walk towards the hospital, they change lanes to the right, the young lady jogs her way, my way, and raviji walks the hospital's way, but the left pathway. Ten steps later, the lights are enough for watching our way. I don't hope those too rain on me. I took caution and walk farther from the tall lights. I take a right and a left. A three minute walk from the bus-stop incident. There's the Mosaic club! Lights on. There's been construction in such a pace that in the past 20 years, this town has made upwards of 60 tall buildings. Me and the members if the club discussed how it was so sudden, the progress. I proposed its to do with the bank's sketchy loan department.