The Olympiad is here again, and the world is mesmerized by superhuman deeds of our champions.
'It is an art to conduct such a competition,' Professor John spoke with admiration.
'Are you talking about the chosen one, the legendary hero without a mask, the chosen one of our Olympiad?' The reporter asked with interest.
'Yes! If we people had a role model like him, we could be like him and follow his path and become like him!' The professor said and sighed.
'But why has he remained a legend without a face?' The journalist asked mockingly.
'That's because he does not like to be famous like the celebrities. He is against any publicity which might endanger him or his life. He is that kind of a person,' the professor said with great admiration.
'Maybe he is afraid of losing his privacy,' There was a short pause. 'Maybe he is jinxed.'
'What are you saying?' The professor asked, frowning.
'Nothing, Sir,' The journalist said with apology.
'Good. Nothing at all. Sir.' The professor closed the newspaper.
'Why do you check the newspaper every morning?' asked his neighbor.
'My wife wants it that way. She reads newspaper advertisement every morning!' the professor smiled slyly, as if he told a secret.
'Your wife has a great skill.' The journalist said with admiration, as the professor put the newspaper aside, as if to put an end to the talk.
'I have a request.' The professor said as he turned to his house.
'What is it, Sir?' asked the neighbor.
'It is a large request, sir. Do you have a good housekeeper?'
'Ah... yes... it is a good housekeeper, a real good housekeeper...'
The professor walked up to the door of the house and greeted his wife from outside. 'Hi, darling, I've come for breakfast!'
'Boil the eggs!'
'Okay, I'll do it in a jiffy!'
The doorbell rang. The professor walked in, suspicious that it might be the neighbor, the journalist, to ask for more gossip.
The professor came in.
'Here is the newspaper! Enjoy reading, dear!'
The professor took the newspaper in his right hand and with his left hand he touched his wife's chin. He put the newspaper on the table. He bent over his wife.
'Good morning, sweetheart!'
'Why are you late, dear?'
He did not reply. He stood in front of his wife. He stared at her in silence. He thought about whispering something in her ear, but he did not utter a word. He stood in front of his wife, in silence.
They were not the kind of couple who discuss silly things in the morning. But this was not a silly thing. They were in complete silence. And they were waiting.
The doorbell rang again.
She bent over the table. She handled the newspaper with one hand. She covered her husband with the other hand. She turned around, closing her eyes behind the newspaper. She smiled. Her face was very beautiful. Her face was without makeup. She wore a saree, not a blouse. She covered her face with the newspaper. The newspaper covered her husband. Her husband was behind the newspaper.
She turned around. She turned around.
Her face was beautiful. She wore a saree, not a blouse. Her face was beautiful. Her face was beautiful.
She turned around. She turned around. She turned around to see the hero coming into the house.
He came into the hall. He came into the bedroom. He entered into the living room. He came into the room. He came into the room.
He looked at her.
She looked at him.
They looked into each other's eyes. They were smiling, happy, full of life, full of love. And they began to kiss.
The hero began to kiss his wife. Both were smiling. Both were happy. Both were filled with life.
The hero began to stroke her back with his hand. The hero began to stroke the soft cheek of his wife. They were kissing. The hero was caressing his wife. The hero was touching his wife.
The hero could not be stopped. He caressed his wife's cheek, her body, smiled, touched, kissed. The hero kissed his wife. It was an amazing kiss.She turned back to check her husband's face. He was still waiting. He had not moved. He was watching his wife. She turned around.
