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Weekly Contest #376
1968, Bukit Tunggu Rubber Estate Paruthi knew that the sliver of crimson piercing through the dense branches would melt in the next ten minutes. If they were quick enough, they’d be on their way back before the light dropped completely. Crunch, crackle, crunch, crackle. It was all he could hear as their bicycle tyres crushed over the dried leaves. Of all the chores, lighting up the oil lamp was his least favourite. Good thing, they only had to do it when Appa was away, which happened at most three times a year. Bad thing, the temple was in...
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