"So, mother. Where are we going from here?" He wasn't much behind her. He kept his pace behind and kept abreast of things which were likely to happen beyond. She didn't seem like one who would answer his question. He knew that she wouldn't keep to that forever. He knew that, sooner or later, she would of course have a reason to at least say something to him. He couldn't catch a gaze of her face. She was quite the steps ahead. He tried walking a bit faster to look into her face and rehearse the words but relented instead. He was trying to figure what might be wrong with her. Probably she was yet vexed from the experience she had sucked from the bone of contention with her husband, his father. He tried not to put that into some real push, but he knew that he would be telling himself some lanky lies. He wouldn't help the odds. Twas not possible. He tried to concentrate on how to get her attention. She didn't
"Unbelievable!"" He spoke as though he was trying to convince himself. He pushed out the words and watched the effect it possibly would have on his instinct. He was trying to severe his options. He was putting into consideration what the contention was. He didn't want to take it that he was the one who was guilty or who had done what was wrong. No one did accuse him of anything. He had no idea why he was that jumpy. He wanted to forget that everything did happen. He wanted to forget that he was made a pawn. He was trying to be what a father would be. But he was getting it wrongly. After the return from the city of the elevated ones, he hadn't been his real self. He had been tossed side by side by odds of time. He did try to find his bearing for naught. He couldn't arrive at a sane conclusion. He had been trying to be who he used to be but it had been much different. That did put him on a spot and h
"Huh?" He knew that he heard something. Kinda a voice. Twas real and pricked his consciousness. He knew that twasnt some illusion. At least if he was not telling lies to himself. He tried to settle the dispute between his mental ken and his rage. He needed to affirm a stance. He was sweeping his new thoughts into a whole. He was putting his ideas into a place. He was driving his motive and goals towards discerning what had been supplanted. Twas all to no avail. He couldn't arrive at a sane stance. He wanted to, but couldn't. The more he tried, the lazier he seemed. He wasn't ready to give in to or ignore what had been let loose. He was trying to figure out the odds. He was trying to prune his rage. He was trying to make his acumen worth the sight. He couldn't had made up the voice in his callous consciousness or sewn subconsciousness. He knew that he did hear something - a voice. He knew that
" Machli, Machli, Machli..." That was the trail of words he heard. He heard only the words but not the owner. He wanted the owner to see but was left hanging in curiosity. He was pining for what was not far away from him. He was longing for what was at his disposal. All he needed was just to be patient enough but he was defected. He wouldn't. He couldn't wait for it. His heart had tiptoed and he was giving it all he could, he guessed. Who was the person who had called him? Who knew him? Who was acquainted with his name? He couldn't be really sure. He couldn't arrive at a sane conclusion. But of course he needed to be sure. He needed to arrive at a sane conclusion. He needed to put his heart up. He needed a mark to make. He needed to put quite the numbers of things straightly. He was counting his options. He couldn't be sure whether or not he was save. He couldn't be sure whether or not he knew wher
"Her foil..." She was little. Kinda tiny. That was the only way she could describe her. She looked kinky also. Her head was red and her body white. She was ridiculously short. Reagan did want to laugh but couldn't simply bring herself to doing that. Not that she was afraid of being cursed if she did laugh. She needn't do that. There was no sane point in making jest of a creature. She wasn't used to such stances. She wasn't used to such trails. She wouldn't trail such tracks. She could use quite the numbers of distinctive odds. She was trying to figure how possible it had been for the fairy to had survived the evil of the hemisphere. Even she who was lanky was finding it quite difficultly to relate or put up with the odds. She knew that things were bent and could not be channeled towards the right course. She was making her guesses known. She was putting her odds side by side. She was pruning h
"If I should." That was to himself. He was trying to arrive at a sane conclusion. He was trying to revive the thought of all his father had said to him in the state of mind. He couldn't hurl the odds. He hoped to make an apt meaning of the stance but that was to no avail. At least for that moment. He was yet putting his instinct into the rage of his stance. He was making his stance conspicuous. He was making his pain assume a salient stance. He was trying to make a sapid seal. He couldn't really be sure. He was trying as hard as possible to make odds of the stance. He couldn't make his heart place a tag. He couldn't make his instinct feed him. He couldn't make his pain dictate what his instinct was supposed to supplant. He didn't want what would make the stance severed. He wanted to make an apt meaning of it. He wanted to claim a stance on it. He was trying as much as possible to toss his ins
"Mom, Mom, Watch out." He leapt at intervals as he tried to put up the odds time had supplanted. He was conscious of the crocodiles in the water. He wouldn't want to be a pawn of their rage at the expense of wanting to save his stubborn mother. He had no idea why she would had done that without having second thought. That was more than being dimwitted. That was more than tossing a coin which no one could counter. He tried not to nurse throbbing thoughts. He felt that that was not so necessary. All that was necessary was the pain tearing at the stance he was trying to hold. He was trying to assume a stance but he simply couldn't. He couldn't make a mark and was trying all he could. Twas so obvious. He was putting in all his best, but it seemed not be enough. It seemed as though things had been filtered. It seemed as though rusty rages were about to be mocked. He didn't care whether or not what he did
"Opps." She had thought that she would break her back. Not really her back but several other parts of her body. She had thought that twould be a great pain for her. She had been nursing the odds since she had been caught in the claws of the apt atmosphere. She had felt that she would be a pawn of the time. She had felt that she would lose her breath. She had felt like the breath would be bruised and would skedaddle. She wasn't sure what would be and had been supplanted. But she was quite glad that it turned out to be something else. She was quite glad that she could hold on to so many a things. She was glad that she was helped by some generous persons. She wasn't sure who the person was or who twould be. She knew that she would look of course. But she wanted to sieve her options firstly. She wanted to put up with the odds. She wanted to linger in her thoughts. She did feel no need for that, but she