At the verge of losing a son

"How do I look?" Ruti, rocking an old yellow dress with buttons running down on the front and green hat, raised and dropped her hands in a flash.

"You look beautiful." Mr. Zero, wearing a greased work suit, smiled radiantly and confessed, "I didn't know you wear dresses."

Ruti let out a chuckle, "It's all I have. I keep it just for special days like today."

He nodded and advised, "we better be going."

The pair walked out of the garage and hopped into the van. Mr. Zero took the wheel and drove off.

Three months it had been since Mr. Zero survived Alexis gunshots that pierced his back. He had fully recovered. And the noise about the President’s assassination and false reports about his death had erased in most minds. Thanks to Ruti.

During the ninety days, a razor neither touched his head nor beard.

He looked somewhat different – he looked old with a pinch of scruffiness. He wore cap and for the first time in his life, a pair of cheap sun glasses adorned his face. All this was to dis