Life is not a bed of roses they say, but for sure I have to find my way. The path I have chosen is an endless race, and people are running at a faster pace.They say change your route here you won’t succeed, you will fall, you will bleed.

Oscar sat opposite Hyun Su and sipped at the porridge. “Where are we going?” Oscar asked gently. There was fog on the window and Hyun Su traced with his finger the lines of an X. They sat in silence as they passed the giant tower blocks of a deserted city. Bran chewed on the bone of his steak as the train entered a dark tunnel and jerked to a halt. Hyun Su rose from his seat and whispered, “Come”.

In the distance Oscar could hear a dog wincing in pain, and the echo of laughter. The laughter was clear but the sounds of the dog were muffled, yet he feared for the creature. Oscar had learned that when his mind was cold, naked and shivering with doubt, was the time he should completely trust it. He suddenly felt a great sweep of anonymity over him and Bran, from whatever was out there. They found themselves clinging to the train with wings on their backs, with the grey monk among them.

Oscar watched the page light up with these words. It was a frightening appearance but with Hyun- Su, Bran and the butterfly on his shoulder, his eyes glittered at the thought of the axe falling. It was the axe that had always meant terrible things and it felt like it would never fulfil its dreary promise. It was the dancing hour in this dark tunnel of delight.

One day, my love, we will go Hand in hand, away With dreams in our eyes And hope by our side
We’ll go wherever we may.One day, my love, we’ll tread softly On a vast expanse of snow When I’ll fall down

Oscar looked down at the book and on the page he turned, he saw some new writing. “Don’t look for love. I am right beside you in your brain waves”. Oscar looked down at the butterfly on his shoulder and he loved it. He stopped reaching and his sadness inside seemed to vanish. He knew what he could see. The butterfly stayed on his shoulder. Bran could be seen beyond the garden in a large meadow. Oscar was glad to be there.

A very drunk Epperly leaned heavily on Lexi as she walked back to the house. Paris hadn’t stayed for long, owing to the late afternoon tryst with alcohol. Bea had spent most of the time smoking weed with the rest of their brothers, who’d been off fishing during the day. They’d got a whole production line going, and Bea collected the final package at the end until they had a good two or three for each of them.

Yellow and emerald, Each leaf of yours was mine, my old banyan. When the sun hides behind colossal stones, My heart aches for your balmy porch, My old banyan. In dreams, in childhood, Alienated, Crowded, Your torso was my embrace, my old banyan. I flushed, giggled on thy long hands with him, We swung and knitted life, Plunged into sweet sauce together, You witnessed all souvenirs of him, On my heart, on my body, With you I shared my tsunamis and Katrinas, My old banyan.

Lexi jerked her cousin awake.

“Paris can’t stop throwing up, and I’m really sick too.” “Hmm…….. must be the shrimp..” “I think we should head back now.” Bea pushed herself upright. “The two of you just need to let it out, you’ll be fine.”Dublin absently wondered if Paris was

Hausla jo barse Umeed ke baadal se,
Gustaakh hai jo yeh Iss dil paagal pe. Jo hua nahi hai Usse ghabra raha hai, Jo beet gaya hai Uspe pachhta raha hai.