Gurgaon Escorts Service @+919354457927

​​​​​​​

Best Gurgaon Escorts Service and Gurgaon Call Girls. India's No. #1 Independent Escort Service and Gurgaon female model escorts. Sonam Escort Agency at 9354457927. Female independent escort service in Gurgaon, Sonam escort are the most experienced call girls in Gurgaon who do everything to make you completely satisfied.

visit site:- https://www.sonamescorts.com/

Contact:- 9354457927

twirlin' dresses,flappin' ties,click, click, click ofhigh heels on the dance floor,while a saxophone blasts in the back.you spin, gigglin' as warm hands take your own,with a soft "hey gorgeous" anddamn you if you don't feelpretty as a poppet in that moment.maybe you are pretty,with cheri red lipstick and painstakingly curled hair,all dolled up in a 1930s dressin shades of cream-bone-quartz.you pretend the Shirley temple in your hand is sweet red wine,coursing through your body,to explain the euphoria rattling through your veins(but shirley temples don't pop,champagne bubbles in the back of your throatand it's not the sugar making you feel this way.)is this what it's like to be alive?all jittery-bug feet and electric wirings instead of nerves,a head in the clouds and two feet soon to follow.it's nice not to worry about the way clothescling to curves you didn't know you had,or accent the ones you wish you didn't.oh-you thought of it.you smooth down the dress,tugging it further downwardsand hope nobody notices the way your stomach jiggles.(now you're self-conscious,is she looking at himor judging the way your dress bunches at the bellyin unnecessary ways.)hands twitchin',you're dragged back into the frayby callused fingers and a crooked smile.you're spun 'round and 'round,dress flaring outand thoughts slowly fade to the back of your mind.you're alive,there are hands on your own,guiding you in an unfamiliar danceand two eyes watching you,all starlight and moonshine and cherry pie.there's lipstick smeared on their cheekand you wonder absentmindedly if you had done it(you wouldn't be surprised if you had;sometimes they just said kiss me harderand well, how could you not?)but you're alive,and you are breathing,and they are holding you,so now you're not,lungs compressing all the airand keeping it out of reach.in the best way possible.you are alive.(one day longer,another day more than you thought.)jazz music plays softly in the background,while they spin you 'round and 'round,you're all flushed cheeks and puffy lips,and you. are. alive.pretty as a poppet,if you do say so yourself.

About an hour from now, my country holds a memorial for everyone who passed in the second world war. After listening to the stories of those who've lived the war, everyone falls silent for two minutes. It's always a strange moment. Normally I'm fine with silence, but that one hurts. But I think that is what it supposed to do.It's easy to forget that it's really not that long ago. I spoke to people who lived through it. They told stories of hiding in the fields and the lack of food. Of course, they didn't tell me the details, I was still a child after all, but I'm old enough to imagine now. Old enough to realize that their stories now slowly die with them. Now there are only a few people left who lived through the war, in a few years there will be none. But even now, the people around me seem to forget what happened already. That the war isn't just another tale about good and evil. But it's a sobering lesson about hate. How anyone can learn to hate anyone, just because someone says we should. How easily we're influenced by the people around us, and that's much easier to believe in a comfortable lie, as a hard truth.Maybe it's just so easy to blame a group of people for our problem, just because of how they look or that they culture isn't like ours. Maybe it's just so easy to feel like they don't belong here, like we did anything to earn the house we were born in. It's so easy to say people just came to find fortune, like we wouldn't do the same.So the world repeats it's mistakes again and again. And I to hold my guilt for that. But on days like this, I give myself two minutes to think. Hoping that others will do it with me. Now I'm older, I have learned this earth doesn't change. We sound like a broken record, repeating the same words over and over. Still, I deem it important, because what happens if we don't? What if too many people forget what happened there, just a lifetime ago?

Those thoughts leave me with a silence that hurts, but I think it's supposed to.

A sunspot caresses his cheeks. Grizeo can see it clearly even though Lim is on his periphery. His younger twin brother who asks when his older brother will be feeding the cats. Which Grizeo throws a dart and it does not hit the mark, “until I bullseye” He says, throwing another until Lim harumphs, steps out after an “ugh”.

News on their television talks about more and more cultists spreading false rumors. That Solaris-3, their planet, will change because the people have forgotten their God and a phenomenon known as Lament will occur. Lim, after having his hands dirty of food scraps, decides to grab the remote control without washing his hands. Angering Grizeo and telling off his twin to wash his hands first. But the deed is done and Lim turns to his brother, hands eager to touch all over him.

And Grizeo throws his dart as Lim crashes down and hug him. Slapping his brother with the hands covered in cat feed. The dart strikes true. “Bullseye!” elates the bumble big boy, and then a flash of light engulfs them. Everything becomes bright and tinnitus--his ears ring. Ringing him awake to the reality of a shattered asphalt road riddled with craters. The horizon halted at sunset and he along with Soren and Riven, clutch their heads and cover their ears as they curl in the ringing pain. His inner organs all pulsating, spasming and twitching him uncontrollably.

“We have…” Soren grits through his words, pulling Grizeo and Riven to stand, “…We have to get off the road, quick”

And they do so with string legs, stumbling at every pulse and shockwave that emanates from the park where they are headed. Strands of light rising from the tacet mark and a etheric sea—an upside down ocean forms on the sky. The broken concrete rains dust on their heads, creaking and threatening to collapse on top of them but they know that the dangers outside are far worrying. Soren gestures his fingers on his lips before bringing his hands on both Grizeo’s and Riven’s lips. “We’re already too late” he says in a distorted voice, before biting his own lips shut.

The ground quakes madly and a stampede of monstrous tacet discords--twisted creatures with bodies of wordly material like cars, trees, jewelries, and more. Swarm of them heading towards the expanding tacet field. Then, a massive, bat-like creature with a cabinet-shaped body stops at the entrance of their building, turning at them and baring drooling mandibles as it screeches. Pursuing at their fleeing staggering, relentlessly.

Grizeo looks over his shoulder and see a little girl and a young lady being cornered by a tacet discord. “I…have to save them” pushing Soren aside but the friend does not let go of Grizeo’s hand. Dust raining atop their heads with a cabinet monster chasing after them. “Let me go” He grunts with brows desperate to save the siblings.

But Soren holds tight, “No, don’t be a damn fool Grizeo!” Not giving any chance to let him go. Especially when Tacet discords are swarming after them.

“They’re just frequencies, not real.” Riven adds as she tries to keep herself away. Waveform pulses lulling their already string muscles to fibers. Rising spires of tacetite keeping them on their feet. Until their stark sunset shadows finds them on an alley. The building behind and around them crumbles as the tacet discords gives them no chance for rest. “Fuck,” Riven curses as they scale buildings, glide, and use their grapple to leap like squirrels from building to building. A giant helix of white chords had risen from the tacet field and connect to the etheric sea. “We’re caught in the Sorono sphere…can we still get out?”

“Then there is no point in running” Grizeo growls like a tacet discord, hitting his own head with the blunt of his dart guns and shaking his head to keep himself awake. “We must fight back.”

Explosions here and there adds to the ringing of their ears. From black smoke gapes out large mouths of the monsters. But the group quickly counter, a broadsword with Soren, dart guns with Grizeo, and a rectifier with Riven. Both Soren and Riven covers each other’s back but Grizeo takes an opening between the monsters to slip away. “Grizeo!” They call out, confused but the monsters surround and attack them. Some following Grizeo gnarly, hungry mouths at him. But he does not look back, his eyes are set for the white helix chords and fires at anything that blocks him.

Dart bullets flies like lightning, and pierces through before the hit flesh or object erupts ablaze. Mad sweat topples off his face like the skyscrapers falling overhead like dominos. Glass shrapnels every time a wave pulses, feeling his skin stabbed to a million holes. While increasing the speed of his angered sprint. His body and sight knowing no retreat or fear like the remnants of the past project around him by the waveform’s strings.

Lim…Lim…

“There might be a chance”

String figures appearing one by one, and telling Grizeo to turn back but one voice in his head holds his chest beating. Legs gliding and swerving at every mammoth sized tacet discord the closer he gets to the ruined park.

“There might be a chance that your twin brother is in another world…made mostly out of frequencies.”

“Which is?” Hearing his own voice ask the old one’s

“The Lament”

“But that’s the calamity”

“Yes, but at the same time, a living catastrophe. Made only by frequency and brought about by the etheric sea. This is only a theory, but if you can help me confirm it, as well as having a chance of finding your brother. Then do all you can to resonate with the white chords.”

That which is a helix spiraling from the tacet mark and to the etheric sea---A colossal dinosaur like tacet discord warps ahead of the road, bloody mouth already gaping to devour. But Grizeo--only a quantum second of shrinking irises in surprise, cries out to quell his shivering chest and fire a barrage of darts, mincing the monster to pieces. Most of the tacet discords, bigger, now emerge from the field. Razing the ground in flames, electro, ice, earth, light or darkness.

“Help! Please Help!” Yells out an ugly three headed heron, its purple black flames almost seared down on Grizeo’s face. But scorches his ruana, abandoning it in his bull charge. “Please! Please! Don’t leave me!” It shouts like a woman but screeches like a drifting tire wheels.

The road cracks and rupture with light as a leaflike dragon tacet discord surfaces and slams its body down at the three headed heron. Friend or foe, Grizeo does not look back and simply pant forwards. Boars, harpies, sirens, what else are going to come out from that field? Then—a crownless, one of the worse enemies that one can fa---blinking in front of Grizeo and punching the young man’s abdomen to an uppercut.

Sending him flying vertically before a winged gorilla claps him like a mosquito.

Bones crack and blood coughs out of him, sweat falling with him as he spirals down 100 ft from the air. Move, wake up, he has to get out from a straight descent to a flower discord’s tentacle throat.

“Lim…” he reminds himself, “Lim…” Burn, burn, like a dart aiming for that red bullseye. Let go, AWAKENED RESONANCE LIBERATION: fire true and aim perfect, Dart Flame Lightning. Erupting his own body into flames as his tacet mark on his cheek sparks out electro. Flame and electro that the Crownless rolls out of the way as Grizeo meteorites down onto the floral discord. Bursting its green bloody bile even its echo, to string bits. Leaving a massive crater that disorients the enemies, giving him gaps of opening to immediately pass through them. “Lim!”

Reaching out for a white resonance chord, but feel a sharp pierce through his stomach and guts…He looks down, a broadblade pierced clean through his abdomen, and another Crownless…three more climbing out of the tacet field’s mark. “Guahh---” vomiting own blood, but his hand remains reaching, reaching forth towards the white strings. A deathly cold send shivers up his spine, telling him to stop and…paralyze…Then hold like a dart in bullseye.

His body, or spirit---I cannot describe the feeling---but the apocalyptic city in ablaze floods with dark ocean waves. The sky raining black as the Crownless and tacet discords disappears around him. He is…still in the city but somehow, feels not. The open wound on his abdomen does not bleed even though his guts are hanging out. He looks down on his hand, the fingers tips glowing white and fading into strings. He is disintegrating…to frequency strings. “LIM!” He calls out, knowing that the only way forwards is finding his brother, no going back, no looking back. “LIM!”

Yelling and shouting for his brother but only nameless echoes and string figures answer him, advising to go back and that the one he is looking for is not here. That is right, how can he be sure that Lim is here? In this city? When their hometown is far north in the province icecaps. His brother might not even be here…and most of his hands now are gone. So, he led himself to his own death? To die finding a missing brother? “HELL I WOULD BELIEVE YOU!” He roars out and the figures disintegrate by his noise.

“Grizeo // can yo//u hear me //Grizeo?” It is the old man again, but his voice cracks like a broken recorder, “I cannot // see you o//n the // map b//ut // te//ll me // if you ca//n h//ea//r me//”

“What’s with you in my head?” Grizeo responds, pinching his aching forehead though he does not have forearms now.

“I // Plan//ted// a// Ch//ip in you // so//rry”

“What!? Sorry does not cut it old man. Lim is not here!”

“Are // yo//u in the La//men//t?”

“And my body is stringed right now. Got no time to talk.”

“Wa//it! Th//i//s in//fo mi//ght help // You know // that the etheric sea // is like the flesh of the Lament and // from where tacet fields are made // There are residual // waves, or // etheric seas. Only an etheric sea // can create a Sonoro sphere // and hold memories // or remnants of echoes from the strings and frequencies…Griz? // You still // There?”

“Got ya” firing a dart through his head to burn the chip off him. But it speeds up his disintegration, from his arms, now from his headshot as well. “Liberate---” Eyes glowing red, tacet mark once again sparking electro as his body erupt in flames. He faces himself south-west from the white chords, feet lunges and darting him for the cratered mountain alp. Ice capped mountains so familiar that his head only fills in with Lim, his brother’s smile, plays, teases, cheers, their house, and what came after it—a crater that only he lived, with an itching tacet mark on his cheek.

Bolted down like thunder, Grizeo arrives at where he once stood. Where he shot the darts and where Lim would be, lazing around at the couch. Of course, there Is nothing other than a black crater with a tacet field’s tattoo. Half of his face and all his arms now gone.

Nothing in this apocalypse, except for the strings that resonate with his wishes. A figure resembling that of a young boy, barely the age of fifteen, materializing in front of him. Though only in pure light energy, Grizeo’s eye widen at the familiar presence. He rushes for it, calling out “Lim! Lim! It’s me!”

Lim’s eyes are as pure as white, with only one string trying to resemble an expression to the young boy’s voice, “Brother…? Y-you, you should not be here…”

“But I am here” hugging the cold strings, yet firm to rest half of his chin, “Your big brother is here to take care of you.”

“No…” fearing and shaking his head, “This is wrong…you really should not be here big brother.” Gesturing at the big brother’s body slowly fading into strings, “You are still alive, you still have a body to live outside.”

“Lim, don’t say that. I am already here for you. We can, play again like last time!”

But Lim shakes his head again, aggressively pushing his big brother back, “We cannot! Big brother should go! The scary men…they are coming back and when they see you. They will kill you!”

“Don’t worry, Big brother is strong here.”

“No, it’s not about that—” And the young boy’s voice trap itself at the sight of five Crownless. “Brother needs to go. When they’re back that means the resonance chord will close too. And, Brother will not be able to return once it closes. You will die!”

“But…I’d rather die for you Lim. I should be dead and you should have lived. I don’t deserve to be the one to live, you should be. I should have taken care of you.”

“…I know that Big brother feels guilty…” Lim taps on Grizeo’s tacet mark and the electro sparks cover the young man, baffling him and yelling out what is happening to him, and why his body suddenly feels like it is being pulled back. “…I know that big brother wants to take care of me and I know that big brother wants to save me…but it’s too late. Hehe…I saved you first.”

“Lim—Wait!”

“No waiting!” Lim swipes again Grizeo’s tacet mark and send the resonator to a lightning speed flurry of red. And the Crownless watch, before seeing the boy himself disappear into chromatic noise.

From the ice capped mountains, to a blinding red light. Feeling himself wet and the pulsating ringing sound of a wave phenomena when once gets too close at a resonance chord. Grizeo wakes, being shaken awoke by Riven and Soren who looks down at him with worried faces. They call him, snap a finger in front of dazed eyes before he throatily, and exhaustedly, say, “What…”

And both hug at their one eyed, and armless companion companion.

“How you are alive is a damn miracle” Soren hugs him tighter, hearing a rib crack and he immediately relaxes, “S-sorry…”

Riven leans her ear to Grizeo’s chest, tearing his clothes apart to hear faint pulsing.

“Must you strip him off?”

“Jealous? I’m the healer here, we have to get him back to camp.”

“Damn right, but how? He’ll bleed off on the ride there.”

“I…” Seeing the grave open wounds, her gloved hands shakes at the doubt, “I can set first aid, then you just call Ms. Verina or Ms. Baizhi. We won’t be moving him an inch.”

“Okay, but protect him. Tacet field is fresh and there might still be discords around.”

“Then go quickly and be careful”

Soren nods his way off the rubbled city. A sunrise clearing a cloudy sky before the first light caresses Grizeo’s cheek and tacet mark like a small hand. Hearing the rustling and kicking of rocks, Riven takes no chances of being sensed, or certainly found and engaging a discord as she takes out a gourd for a slime echo to cover them both and camouflage from the dangers of their apocalypse.

Traversing the intricate arteries of London in my youthful days, my existence was enlivened by a veritable kaleidoscope of urban sprawls—from Oxford's scholastic resonance to Paris's amorous promenades, Melbourne's animated alleys, Sydney's iridescent harbour, Hong Kong's throbbing vigour, and Tokyo's scrupulous orderliness. Each metropolis unfurled its narrative like a rich tapestry to me, a youth utterly enchanted by the ballet of towering steels and the sotto voce of venerable stone guardians. Each cityscape, with its architectural symphony, played a melodious serenade to my soul, captivated by the discourse between the avant-garde behemoths and the persistent allure of historical facades.

Within this urban compendium, London's Shard and Gherkin resonated most profoundly, their tales interlacing through the warp and weft of the city's architectural folklore. The Gherkin, with its sinuous form, emerges as a paean to the aesthetics of curves—a lyrical ode to architectural fluidity that challenges the conventional race to the skies. In contrast, the Shard stands as a colossus among its contemporaries, presenting a celestial panorama over London's expanse, a vista that once beguiled me with its ethereal allure at dusk. In London, my heart dances to the architectural ballads of the Shard and Gherkin—monoliths that, to me, represent more than mere edifices; they are the very embodiment of urban poetics.

The Gherkin, with its undulating silhouette, crafts a sonnet to the heavens, a tribute to the splendour of curvature that defies the zenith-chasing spires of its brethren. It heralds a new epoch where architectural ambition is gauged not by height but by the elegance of its shape and the efficacy of its core. Meanwhile, the Shard, towering above its peers, offers a vertiginous perspective from which the city unfolds like an artist's canvas, imbued with the twilight's hues—a scene that once captured my youthful fancy.

Yet, London's story is merely a chapter in a broader global narrative. The Eiffel Tower in Paris, casting intricate shadows over the Seine with its iron latticework; Melbourne's Royal Exhibition Building, a vestige of colonial splendour juxtaposed against modernist fronts; and Sydney's Harbour Bridge, an engineering triumph that elegantly frames the Opera House—each contributes stanzas to the grand architectural saga.

Beyond the seas, Hong Kong's International Commerce Centre (ICC) stands as a pillar of progress, its apex cleaving the clouds alongside the International Finance Centre (IFC), where my father's legacy intertwines with glass and steel. The IFC captures a segment of my heart, a beacon of personal resonance amidst the city’s architectural chorus. It serves as a confluence of memories, a locus where past and present meld, each visit rekindling familial bonds and attesting to the enduring connections forged by architecture.

In Tokyo, the sleek profile of the Mori Tower redefines the cityscape, its presence a symphony of technology and design, mirroring the city's flair for melding the traditional with the futuristic.

These architectural wonders create a mosaic of human creativity and vision. Each landmark, a symbol not just of its city but of its era, encapsulates the spirit of its age, the aspirations of its people, and the unyielding quest for beauty and functionality interwoven.

Setting forth on this odyssey through the globe’s cities, each skyscraper and historical monument narrates a tale of ambition, of dreams etched in concrete and steel, aspiring skywards. My wanderlust, spurred by a thirst for these narratives, compels me to traverse the cobblestones of history, to gaze upwards at the spires of progress, and to discover in each a reflection of humanity’s infinite potential.

Architecture, in its very essence, chronicles civilisation's pursuit of the sublime, a testament to the dialogue between terra firma and the cosmos. These structures, standing as custodians of our collective tale, stitch together the fabric of our communal identity, marking the skyline not merely as landmarks but as luminaries of human endeavour and collective memory.

The next day at school, we were all at the school stadium celebrating the school 40th anniversary,  which means, no lectures all through the day. I sat on the bleachers biting my lower lips anxiously, knowing exactly what I planned to do next, i push away the warning thoughts and focus on the stuffs I was writing in my drafts.

Surprisingly Ace is here too, seating right beside me, from the frown and lines he wore on his face, i can guess he didn't get enough rest like I did.

You look stressed, what did you do all night? I ask.

Banging, he says nonchalantly.

Banging who? I ask, was it Jealousy, am not sure. It was in my nature to engage in meaningful conversations but here I am, investigating who he had sex with last night after he left me behind with no clue on what got him pissed.

The crowd suddenly went wild, and I  massage my bruised wrist for a moment, paying attention to the field.

I wanted to tell him last night definitely didn't end well for me, I was mad at my parent for hiding the gang life from me, I mean, I could have been shot in my sleep one of those days they were away doing their business.

Lost in thought, I see a hand stopping me from massaging my wrist, Ace did that to get my attention and it worked.

Are you jealous sweetheart?

We both looked into each other's eyes at the same time, I waited for his eyes to get distracted but he was determined to hear me speak.

I smiled, exposing my gap teeth.

What's your goal Ace? Am not the one you are engaged too, you shouldn't be asking me, you owe whatever explanations to your girl and not me I spoke loud enough for only him to hear me.

He kicked the bleachers in front of us, I hurriedly apologized on his behalf but the occupants didn't mind, especially when they saw it was Ace who did it.

I thought he will let go of my hand but he held on to it and place both of our hands on his laps, that was when I observed he was wearing a plane white round neck shirt on a ripped black jean....

What is wrong with me this morning, am usually not this invested in minding businesses that was not mine, snap out of it, i warned myself looking back to the field.

I told you to back off, James said for only me to hear.

Are you talking to me, I ask, feigning ignorance. James really makes me uncomfortable in my own skin, I narrow my eyes at his girl and notice she is lost in whatever was going on at the field.

You don't need to worry about me, am engaged to someone else.

Whatever I said, made James to look at me in pure shock,  leaving his mouth wide open, his friendly face was back on, he scratched his head feeling somewhat guilty I guess.

Am sorry.....he said.

My eyes drifted back to him, for what?

For been unnecessary cold to you.

The only reason I didn't like James was because he picked every available chance we met, to threaten me to leave Ace. The most surprising thing is, if he ever walks by at a time where am been bullied or threatened,  he doesn't hesitate to defend me.

He never told me you got engaged last night,  James explained. He had us work twice harder than we used to, now I know why.

He didn't go banging any girl last night? I ask, hoping he will tell me. James look confused then,  he looked to his friend before saying, you should ask him yourself...

Have tried, do you think if he had told me I will be asking you who he had sex with? The school speaker suddenly went quiet at the mention of the word sex, you could hear a pin drop, and all eyes was instantly on me for few seconds..

My cheeks immediately turned bright red & James, my best friends bursted into a fit of laughter, I was more than embarrassed I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide forever.

Ace let go of my hand and I instantly turn to face him, I see him standing up to leave, I was clearly annoyed he was leaving.

I wanted to scream at him but I didn't want to embarrass myself any further, Ace, I say.

I will see you tonight was all he said before he kissed my cheeks and signaled for James to come with  him.

Yes, it's him. I am back, guys. I haven't been able to find the motivation to write lately but I have an announcement for later. I LOVE Broadway and like Little Shop of Horrors, Falsettos, In Trousers, Hamilton, Heathers, and Book of Mormon. I am currently listening to Gutenberg and will listen to Some Like it Hot and Smash.

If only there were boundaries

That I could cross without fear

Or losing or harm

If only there was no hate

So I could be as free as

a blue jay each night

If only there wasn’t self-doubt

Then I would write more

And be onstage with the blinding lights and microphones

More

If only…

But if only is just a dream

Lost in the endless spiral in my head

Each night before I sleep

You stole my Heart...

I recall our first encounter vividly. I was sitting in my Nana's quaint café, my feet propped atop the small circular table, waiting for her to chauffeur me to school as we couldn't afford a car. That's when you strolled in, with your warm yet melancholic gaze and luscious brown locks.

"May I sit here?" You inquired, and I found myself captivated by your presence.

"Of course," I replied, swiftly removing my feet from the table.

Moments later, you asked for my phone number.

"I couldn't resist reaching out to such a stunning individual. May I have your number?" You asked, and I remember every word.

Unbeknownst to me, within five weeks of our encounter, you would become my boyfriend. I was smitten- a feeling unlike any other. It was a comforting sensation, and I cherished every moment of it.

You stole my money...

I got my first job after you asked me to marry you. It paid minimum wage, but it covered the rent for our mobile home after we moved in together. You always asked for money, even the money we needed. But like the idiot I was, I worked hard to get you what you wanted, while I was left stressed and worried about paying the rent. At least I thought I was making you happy. Your car, watch, and two phones I bought for you weren't enough? I started noticing you getting distant from me. Your car was never here, and I was always alone, sitting in my depression and loneliness. You were always leaving for places I didn't even know. Was it hard for you to stay by my side? I did everything for you, but there was nothing I did that was good enough for you.

You stole my trust...

I lost my trailer because I couldn't pay for it, and I was left living in your car and sometimes on the streets. I remember you sat me down in your car and told me you loved me. I didn't believe you, but I was scared to be alone. Where were you all those days? Cheating on me with a girl who made more money, was prettier, and had more class. When I found out, I was driving to a shelter. I never understood where you stayed and why you never came with me, considering you were my husband and we were both homeless or so I thought. You got a text message from a girl named Lola.

"Hey baby, just making sure you made it.."

10:34 AM.

I red from your phone.

"Who is this Jason?" I asked with a nervous look on my face, feeling like I was about to throw up. I knew the answer, and you knew I knew.

"I'm so sorry... We never spend time with each other, and we're struggling. I didn't know what to do, and when I started going to the club, I started meeting new people."

"No Jason, I was struggling. You left me. You had a choice... Pull over," I asked you with disgust.

"Let me at least take you to the shelter," you said to me. I'm not sure why, because all these years you were sleeping in a comfortable bed with another woman, while I was sleeping on cement.

I let you take me.

You stole my happiness.

Thankfully, I'm doing well now. I went to college and got a degree in the medical field. I help people at the shelter, and I even met a new guy who treats me right and helps me just as much as I help him. But even on my best days, I think of you, and all the good feelings go away. You broke me. I can't even hear him say he loves me without thinking about you. I know it's messed up, and I know he wouldn't be happy if he knew I was still thinking about my ex. You stole everything from me. You took everything from me. I worked hard to keep us afloat, but you kept asking for more money for things you didn't need. You cheated on me, lied to me, and left me homeless. Now, I'm doing better, but I still think of you and all the pain you caused me. So because you loved me, I had to go through all this pain... Because you stole my heart.

“Yes. It would appear so.”

He grinned. Small at first. Then bigger. And bigger. But in an evil way.

The lights turned maroon casting a bloodish-red glow on his cheeks.

“Yes. It would.” He pulled the gun out of his pocket and pointed it straight at her.

I gasped along with everyone else in the room as we all finally put together the pieces. It was him. It was him this whole time.

She stared straight into the gun as if she should had known all along.

“No. Not this way. I prefer a different way.” He grinned again.

Dropping the gun with a thud, he attacked her, wrapping one arm around her neck and the other around her mouth, muffling her blood-curling scream.

He continued to laugh maliciously as she convulsed violently in the chair.

He had managed to completely fool her. Fool everybody.

The curtain came down as the room exploded in cheers.

The director called his name as he walked back onstage to the loudest applause of the night.

I cheered right along with the crowd.

But I saw it slightly different.

He was my childhood. The one person who knew the beginning the best. The one person who has been there from day one.

He stood among the rest of the cast accepting the congratulations and admiration from the visitors.

And I noticed then what I should have seen before, my childhood is all grown up.

So to the boy who I see as my childhood…

thank you. I hope you are able to go do and go be everything you want. I hope you are able to forget all the pain and all the heartbreak of your life and become what you were meant to be. Thank you for letting me be apart of the beginning.

Go be amazing, Tom.

Sincerely,

Zero

In the classrooms of yore, Side by side we sat;Through dawn and dusk, We journeyed through our nascent days.Chalk marks on the blackboard glittered like stars,While in our textbooks,Knowledge flowed like a quiet stream.

Once we chased and frolicked across the fields,The afternoon sun showering down,Laughter echoed around.Now, as time hastens on, We've taken separate paths,Old classmates, like brothers—Do you fare well?

May your lives be as rich as poetry,As smooth as a painting,With laughter and tears from memories pastWeaving into an endless melody,In hope that one day, We may reunite, andContinue our heartfelt tale.

In the bustling city of Astoria, where the sky gleamed with the colors of a thousand enchantments, Alexander Blackwell strolled through the grand halls of his ancestral mansion. The Blackwell Manor stood as a testament to his family's wealth and power, its walls echoing with the whispers of a bygone era.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city, Alexander found himself lost in thought. Despite his riches, there was a void in his heart that no amount of wealth could fill. He longed for something more, something elusive and intangible.

It was on one such evening that fate intervened, in the form of a mysterious woman who appeared out of the shadows. She was unlike anyone Alexander had ever seen, her beauty ethereal and her presence commanding. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, seemed to pierce through his soul.

"Who are you?" Alexander asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The woman smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "I am Isabella Hartley," she replied, her voice like a melody that stirred something deep within him.

From that moment on, Alexander's life would never be the same. Isabella brought with her a sense of mystery and excitement, a glimpse into a world he had only dreamed of. As they spent more time together, Alexander found himself falling for her, captivated by her every word and gesture.

But as their love blossomed, dark forces conspired against them. Secrets from Isabella's past threatened to tear them apart, testing the strength of their love. And lurking in the shadows was a danger that neither of them could have imagined, a danger that would put everything they held dear at risk.

As the night stretched on, Alexander and Isabella were faced with a choice—to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume them, or to fight for their love and the future they longed for.

And so, their journey began, a journey of love, betrayal, and ultimately, redemption. As Alexander and Isabella embarked on a quest to uncover the truth, they would discover that sometimes, the greatest magic of all is simply the power of love.