In a faraway place, a nightingale cooes a melancholy under the moonlight. The moon and it are face to face, alone. With an aching heart, the nightingale weeps for the eggs that broke before hatching. Both the nightingale and the moon stare at each other, one in immediate solitude and one in solitude that existed before time. In another place, stands a woman in her early thirties by a window made of wood. A pigeon settles on the window sill and cooes but the woman takes no notice. Her eyes seem to look far on the road that lays ahead. The road that disappears into the city and into the forests. But never had she thought that getting married to a soldier would make her look at an actual road, for days, sometimes patiently, sometimes impatiently waiting for an answer, if she's still a wife or now a widow, a yes or a no. Sometimes, not knowing whether to move on or hold back is more painful than doing either of these. In the same house, locked in a bedroom is ...
- - Throw in some science, a little theology, sprinkle it all with some literature; I'll be there somewhere in those entanglements, somewhere where the mind, spirit and heart can merge. - - | Instagram: sharonmaryeappen| Subscribe below to get notifications via email.