I lived in chimney stack last night.
I was a nomade one.
I had flied to reach the attic side of this house,
But I failed.
The light, as you know, has become the most attractive attraction for me.
The yellowest lamp enlighten the room.
Such a great motivation for efflorescent life of mine.
A woman of intellect and serious was there.
She didn’t choose bright light to brighten her room.
She liked cloudy theme for anything, even for choosing her life’s theme.
It has been almost a month since I’ve never heard her giggles.
She was mad as if she claimed herself as the worst person who didn’t deserve bad treatment of others.
I knew how hard she was trying to let everything go.
She also claimed that she needed to be healed.
She seemed melancholy and depressed about something.
She was not good.
And I wasn’t there to reach her place to cheer her up.
