So called Brandon Mills
Nearly 40 minutes later, I finally reach my destination. Getting out of my car, I walk upto the door and knock on it. Almost after 2 minutes, the door opens and a lady in mid 40s peeks out not opening the door completely. "How may I help you?" Her voice is hoarse and she speaks as if that's the most difficult task in the world. "Can you please confirm this is the right address?" I ask politely, handing over the paper to her. She reads the address and then looks at me skeptically as if she's contemplating whether to be honest or not. "I'm just looking for someone. I don't mean any harm." I assure her. She studies me for few more seconds before giving in. "Yes, this is right." She says handing over the paper back to me. "I'm looking for one Brandon Mills, is he home, ma'am?" "I'm sor
- Writer
