When the curtains flow down, the lights dimmed out, there in a corner, a shadow resides. It peeps through a hole. Across the waves of time, the glare of future, the scent of the past. Scribbling in its mind, it flashes back to the splash of memories, mélange of snaps, a cold slush with time, it continued.
Sinking in emotions, the shadow sighed, thrilling through its body were jerks of happiness mixed with pinches of pain attributed to past. Opening the side window, the breeze blow through its amorphous thoughts, dragging it to the house of past. See it, it begs to return to the lounge of that house, relive those moments. But grains of time have been eaten, making it realize, all desires never come true. In the darkness of its despair, the shadow faints, at last compacting back straight into me.
First year (Q-47)