Secrets- <><><> Chapter Four

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Every one in the hosts' joined living room and dining room were waiting. The night was fading. The green drapery curtains with white lining were pushed aside. The soft wind were blowing out the white lace curtain behind them; however, even though they were lace, they were obscuring the orange sun, soon to come out.

Everything that was happening amongst the six people in that closed space were only words, the usual words that had so much emotion, so much pain, and so many secrets behind them. Words that for so long were prevented by some force stronger than the owners of those words to be uttered. Now, let them spill, spill what little hearts had been able to remember, to recall good and evil.

The moon was now turning, there, there, somewhere, on the other side of the universe, to give its beauty to the people who were just going through night. However, its light, as if with some kind of magic, was even better than day light. Love for so many things were floating in space.

"Love of living, when it is too much;

Hope and fear arise at such.

Taking for granted the gift of living;

What God has given us is not living.

Sometimes we forget that nothing is for ever.

We forget that our dead ones wake up never.

Even the toughest river, we forget,

Winds to the safety of a sea in its sunset."

The future for all these people was something to be loathed, favoring more, much more the past, not a far past, but even a day ago- the sweet, holly past. And all the reasons for animosity were not intended to subside, to dissipate like rain cloud in the sun.

Now there was only one thing to consider; all these people now should be attentive to each other, very much so. They all carried so much dirt on their shoulders. No one could say that he or she was clean. Conscious of analytical steadfastness they had achieved, they had to be cautious not to destroy it, to stay in an impartial zone on exchanged consideration; leaving out not only exaggerated aloofness but also amplified faith.

There was a strange kind of transient illusion in the room, which at the same time were both lively and deathly; it was both of passion and of abstract commiseration. The deep and endless cry of crickets filled the still room. And each one was awed by the inexplicable and awkward look of the others which darkened their faces. "Here we are. " They all thought. They did not know what to do. A feeling of unclear sense of worthlessness filled them up.

The past now was more precious than present, control was less important than memory of it. Mastery compared to awareness, seemed disenchanting, conventional, insufficient... They were all anxious for the present, that moment, to become past, not slowly, but very quickly. If the present was past, perhaps, just perhaps they could learn from it, or forget it, even love it with a peace of mind. Nevertheless, every second of present would become past, as though present never existed, the intensity would also become more severe and bitter.

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To Be Continued