‘My sissy cousin’

There was a distant cousin,

I hadn’t met for years.

I had heard a lot

of his ham-fisted works

at home.

People teased him sissy.

Luck favored one day.

He had joined an office nearby,

it was a chance to meet him.

We talked and made gossips,

but he seemed concentrated

at something.

I didn’t reflect.

During our conversations,

he stood up and walked

to my chair,

placed opposite.

He seemed disturbed

by something.

There he sat,

at the upholstery

and acted peculiar.

We rode in his car.

There was a bag between us

at the back,

where we sat.

He replaced the status

of the bag.

That went to the front seat,

near his chauffeur,

who was irresistibly hazel eyed

and dark- a unattractive, lanky man.

I asked him stop the car,

pretexts were made of exigent works.

When I waved my hand,

I noticed his disheartened face.