XLI

    "He's my son."

     He wasn't sure who that was meant for. He looked around him, there was none there but him. The monarch hadn't even used the first person pronoun but the third. A part of him told him who he was referring to. But he couldn't process so many thoughts at a time. It ain't because the thoughts were remote or farfetched. Twas simply because, most of the thoughts seemed to him as illogical. He didn't know how to make meaning of them. He actually was trying pretty hard to make meaning of them twas to no avail. He tried to concentrate and process the sentence. At that bid, tons of questions swelled up in his mental horizon. Their heights mocked the sway of the waves. A part of him told him that he stood no chance of making meaning of or surviving the torrents such stances would lend. The first questions which snapped at his consciousness was: if truly he is your son, why then would he have to han