I've heard tell of the existence of a legless bird in the real world. A constant flutter in the space above constitutes its whole life.Prostrated with toil and strain, it just takes repose in the wind. Throughout countless nights and days, only once will its body brush the dust of the ground and that's the very time when it bids farewell to the world.
Never in my life would I erase from my mind the 60 seconds right before 3 P.M. of April 16th, 1960, the transient period that you were with me.
It has become an irreversible fact that we did become friends as the minute had elapsed despite its evanescence.
I might have been consigned to his oblivion, or might not, but I would bear him in mind and always.
So there I was, in my mother's house, but she would never nod to meet me. Her maid told me that mother did not belong here any more, but to me, that was sheer pretext.
Upon leaving, I intuitively felt the gaze of someone fixed on my back, but stony enough, I never turned back.
Since the one who gave me birth frustrated my pining for just a look at her face, my revenge was to leave without ever looking back.
I have forecasted that I wouldn't figure out which woman on this planet was I devoted to even till the very last minute of my life, but I start wondering what she was busy with at the moment.
Twilight is approaching, foreshadowing a nice day. What will the sunset be like has become another wonder of mine.