This is something I have been wondering if I should write. It might not be a tale of adventure, crisis, or heroic sarcasm but it surely won’t be another twilight. This a tale of a group of people who consider themselves as a false savior, backstabber and enemy of non-making-any-sensible things, and even a brilliant traitor. No.
This shouldn’t be. This story is about a struggle of mind between what is sensible and what is claimed to be sensible.
This story began to exist at beginning of last year when certain people make decision based on speculation. The people who enables such decision are ones who are closest and dearest. Brotherhood would be tested and measured but without proper countermeasure should something go south.
T’was rainy day in the morning. A little boy woke up from his deep slumber and took a walk on wet road. He wore a white shirt, a pair of black trousers, a pair of black shoes. His mind was clouding of what he should say next. It was Monday and he had a word of honor.