She spoke in a slang, I spoke a word.

Her thick auburn hair fell in soft waves over her shoulder, the rich spill of red ending just below her breast. The strands flickered a little, like the flame of a candle in the soft blow of a frail wind, as she rocked herself back and forth and back again in a cycle that never ended. In her hands was a white bundle, a colour that merged with her own apparel. A lilting melody drifted from her lips as she stroked the little babe in her hands, from the head, to the shoulder. From the shoulder, to its head.

When the nights grew old,
and the days grew young.
The sun came out to play,
and the moon went down...

I took away the support that I gave to the curtains and they fell with a soft rustle, covering the orange glow that stumbled slightly from the brick fireplace at the corner of the room. My boots crunched on the gravel slowly and the wooden door creaked slowly as I gave it a light shove. A stench hit me and even though my efforts to suppress the disgust, I still felt my nose crinkle. Father just stood there, in that sad trance of his that I had to get used to. Mother gave a little giggle halfway through her lullaby, having eyes only for the covered up bundle in her hands.
She lifted it up and pushed it towards her chest, breast-feeding they called it. Mama used to tell me that she did this to me too when I was little.

The cover came off. My vision blurred.

He. Was dead.
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This blog shall be going on a hiatus for a while, most probably for a week or more. I'm not sure. But knowing myself, I may come back to post maybe one or two when I feel like it. Exams are rounding the corner with SPA in two weeks. Plus there is an initiation camp coming. And I've not thought up of any activities. Damn. I hope that there would not be any hiccups whatsoever. Ah well. Whatever happens, happens, and happens for a reason. Just suck up a the good stuff and throw away all the shit. Learn from it. :) Oh, hello Mr Max if you're here :)