It was a lazy Sunday Afternoon. Crows cawed, the sun smiled warmly, vehicles horned occasionally, life seemed to be still. Smitran Ragubat was having an afternoon nap, a tool he used to de-stress and shut down the noise in his head often. Twenty weeks had passed since he published his last story. His publisher was putting pressure on him to come up with one for the magazine he worked for.He wondered if the muse had left him and he is no more a writer. Afternoon naps have often served him good, flushing his brain and making it empty for ideas to pour in. And then his alarm rang. Smitran Ragubat woke up and went for a walk. He took tea from a roadside shop , contemplating on the way for an idea for his next story. As he walked back to his home, an idea came out of the blue. "I will walk back and meet a person, a stranger. I will earn the person's trust and ask their life's story and publish it with their permission" he thought. H