Yesterday, he collected his dreams, some fragmented dreams, and headed north, where he belongs. Old and cold was the road, but did he have choices? Deserting dark cities and ending up in others! Burying old pain and growing another!
Yesterday, he collected his dreams; some fragmented dreams, and headed north, where he belongs. Small eyes he recognized, funny and innocent like old times. But he! He looked cranky and old, belonging to nowhere! Sometimes he misses his past, but his past, does it miss him?
Once he wrote a note: he wanted to be buried up the hill. He would send the city his evening greetings and pay tribute to the home-comers. It was just another fragmented dream that would remain a dream.