The breeze in time became cold and my frozen fingertips started taking a toll on me. This might be the last chance. This might be the final excuse I could get. To slowly walk not knowing whether there could be even a negligent chance of you running towards the shadow of the Oak tree.
Although the trail was familiar, for I have taken that so many times only to find myself back in that place. In that very place, under the shadow, holding a bouquet of withering paper flowers.
This time I close my eyes tight, march in that same trail and let myself be engulfed by the darkness.
Like that one flower in the garden looking up at the sky to feel jealous of the fireworks, for the fireworks are colourful, flying up in the sky and bringing joy.
From the window of my house, I see the blue and the ocean. I see no melancholy. Indeed, a sunny day of my entire life. I let myself out there under the Sun, hands wide open and wonder if that bird up above feels the same.
-Vaishdas









