I entered the door in a flurry of emotions, my mind filled with worries, my exhausted eyes begging for a rest from this busied city life. I had almost passed it when the subtle glisten of a pattern caught my eye; a shade of purple contrasting the dark wood of the table in the hall.
A delicate box. Awaiting my return home. Perhaps one of the children? No, its beauty intrigued me in a way no child’s toy could. Brushing my fingertips across its textured top I felt myself caress its corners, lifting the lid slowly.
My heart fluttered, my cheeks heated as I saw the shimmer of the gems inside. The pendant clung to delicate satin, and the satin to a card. I wished so much to read it.
An invitation. The beauty of the card, the caring thoughtfulness of my friend. It was elegant, like her. I pictured her, framed in the Indian sunset, glowing with happiness in her wedding dress.
I couldn’t miss it. I would see the radiance of Goa.

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