She was there, her venom filled up the ambiance while pairs of eyes speculated over her self. I had found a new meaning of ‘love’ beyond all continuum of time. I looked at the rain stained glass while I could hear this tune from somewhere deep in me.
“The things we did, the things we said
Keep coming back to me and make me smile again
You showed me how to face the truth
Everything that's good in me I owe to you”
She found a way to release out of the debts loosing out the emotionally sensitive fool and resumed her stay as the billionaire heiress and fantasy of many gleaming eyes. Deception wasn’t anymore the trick she used over her card game, it was what she played on life and lived to glory.
Slowly, he began to accept himself for what he was and who he was. He would never be physically normal, but he could think and feel. He could write. His isolation enabled him to see the shades of meaning in the commonplace.
Let us pick up a new white paper and begin the age old problem afresh, but with honest efforts and let our souls be painted yellow before the paper turns yellow again.
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