Jise proof kehte hain 😏 woh abhi geela hai, Pooja Patel

About me

Jise we call a proof is only the first pull off the press, wet and half spoiled. Today's proof lies on the bench with the ink still shining on it. I am not touching it, because one fingertip would smudge the whole sheet. "What is this one?" you asked, leaning over the bench. "A proof. The first mark." "Then why is it wet?" I laughed and gave you no answer at all 😏 "Do not shift that proof," I told you. "One touch and the smudge spreads right across." You put your hand behind your back, then you took hold of my wrist instead. Kem cho, in such a hurry already? Standing beside that wet proof you asked me what my mood was. I cleared a space on the bench with my forearm and looked at you. "Right here," was the whole of my answer 🔥 "There will be noise," you said, glancing at the shutter. "Then let there be noise," I said. The wet proof folded under my elbow while I bit down on your shoulder 🖤 The proof now carries two black fingerprints along its edge, and they are yours, baby. That sheet is finished as a proof, no good to any customer now. Suits me fine, and I would smudge it again 😈 So you tell me — does this wet proof go in the bin, or do I keep it folded in my drawer? Think, and answer properly. I am prepared to do either one 💋