In
a story, there were two strangers in their own time. It was a different time on
the watch of reality. They started to say what they feared saying. They started
to hear what they feared hearing. Yet, something was melting into another
something.
The
unknown remained unknown as recitations of new chapters began. But who could
really read what their hearts truly connoted? Even the sullenness pointed that
they were allowed to dream. Again. Together. For each other. With each other. That
would break the vicious circle of grief.
On
a morning after sunrise, the sound of heartbeats was not heard. Such was the way they met that time. As the
recitation prolonged, they did not realize that in between the words of life, love
intruded. Deluded heart. Dreamy and magical. Intoxicated. And all of a sudden
the recited words started to wonder, “Which way should I go?”
The
question found its own answer.