Unga support vachi than, I will continue this new book further..
Please comment pannunga apo than I will know about it....
As I already said in my convo board ..no updates two weeks...
3500+ words...
Suggested to create short stories on Vika by @theenchantress46 Thank you so much for asking ❤️
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The night air was heavy with the smell of rain on hot tar when Kaveri reached the bus stand. A light drizzle had ended just an hour ago, leaving the platforms damp and glistening under the yellow streetlights. It was nearing 11:15 p.m., the last bus to her hometown, and she had no choice but to take it.
She hugged her handbag closer, careful of the damp benches as she scanned the schedule board. Seat 11, Window Side. The words printed neatly on her ticket gave her a strange sense of relief. She liked window seats—they gave her space, a slice of privacy, and an escape route for her thoughts.
Kaveri was twenty-seven, practical by nature, but tonight she felt oddly unsettled. She had attended a late seminar at her university and missed the earlier bus. Her phone buzzed faintly in her hand—her best friend Narmada checking in:
“Reached the bus?”
Kaveri typed back quickly, “Yes. Will message once I settle.”
The bus arrived with a screech, headlights cutting through the misty air. It wasn’t luxurious—just a standard intercity coach with red seats, white curtains, and the faint smell of diesel mixed with incense sticks that someone must have lit near the driver’s seat.
She climbed up, dragging her small suitcase behind. The aisle light flickered, adding a ghostly charm to the half-empty bus. Most passengers looked tired, leaning against their bags or half-dozing already.
Kaveri walked to her place and paused.
Someone was already sitting on Seat 11.
He looked up as she approached. Tall, broad-shouldered, neatly dressed in a plain black shirt, his presence felt strangely commanding in the dim bus light. His face was partly shadowed, but his eyes—sharp, watchful—met hers with a quiet intensity.
“This is… my seat,” Kaveri said softly, showing her ticket.
He gave a small nod. “I know. I’m on 12. Window seat was empty when I boarded, so I just sat here for a while. Please.” He shifted quickly, sliding into the aisle seat.
Kaveri hesitated, then sat down. Her instincts warned her to stay alert. Something about him didn’t feel ordinary.
The bus rolled out of the station, rattling over potholes before settling into the highway rhythm. Outside, the darkness was thick, broken only by streaks of neon signs and occasional headlights.
