Sattire Attire part XVI - A day in the life of...

"How can you expect a man who's warm to understand a man who's cold?" - Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

How can you expect a man who has love to understand the barrenness of life; a body without a soul. A purpose without passion. To wake up each morning with depleting hope. When "living life" becomes an irony. Would a man who was not as marooned be able to understand and be an impartial judge and jury?

A trial must be fair and it would not be so in his case. He had considered revealing himself and bringing an end to all the madness that ensued.

But would that be fair?
No.

Should the future be held hostage by the past?
Maybe.

Was he in prison?
In a way he was. And he had been all his life. He thought that with an act of madness might break free from his confines.

So let the world go on by embroiled in love and its half-brother, hate. He was not part of that world and consequently beyond the jurisdiction of its laws of love and hate.
His actions were driven by madness derived from love but not love. And certainly not by hate. Sylvester had acquitted himself.

And so he asks and wonders:
" Where do we go from here?
How will I reconcile to a lifetime without you?
My mind is fogged. If there were one thing that I could forsake, would it be love?
- its joys and its eternal pain.
This deciet-amour has cost me more than my breath; I will never smile again."

The city still burned. He could smell that fiery serpent; hate. Hate slithered through the cluttered streets of the city, making its way into citizens' dwellings through crack, window, pipe, gutter and door. Leaving behind a bitter trail of venom, fatality and revenge. It spared no one. The poison was spreading, the pupils dillating and the tempratures were rising in the middle of the coldest winter. Life and its ironys; associated with living and death.

Sylvester had his eyes closed but he could see everything through his pulse as it beat faster than a dragonfly's wings. It only slowed down when he heard a faint knock on his door...