Vanishing Act
Sudeep Dhoj Thapa
It was a summer night during my first year of medical school. Small bugs danced about the school buildings’ lights and filled the air with their penetrating hum.
In the television room, located across a small grassy lawn from the dormitories, I sat watching old movies with my classmate and friend Rajesh.
Rajesh was tall and chunky. He wore his thick, jet-black hair combed back, which made his broad face and smile appear even more so. I’d known him since our first days at medical school.
“Everyone in my hometown knows me,” Rajesh had told me. “I’m the first one in my area to go to medical school.” Clearly he enjoyed being the pride