… a serene atmosphere takes you to a country house in Lankashire. Its stone structure reminds of a tower house in the middle ages. Is it built with Palladin architecture? A few remark. The breeze from the orchid welcomes you to the backyard. There are white oaks, pines, sapodilla and Spanish lime. The woodpeckers add much delight to it.
Daniel is on the top of a tree felling the branches. While collecting them down, I say,
You know, what type of a person Mark Antony is?
Um, I’m listening, Daniel replies.
He is of one quarrelsome type staying at the right house. One day he had thrown a broken glass here, you know, I say
It is unfair, Daniel interrupts.
Yea, I asked for an explanation
Explation, … for a foolish act! Ha.. ha.. laughs Daniel
It shows my decency, I sigh with bitterness.
What type of a person is Jonathan? asks Daniel
He is a Jew, very pious indeed. I show the left side and say, there he is living with his family.
How many are there in the house? Daniel asks.
Rebecca, his wife, his son Aaron and Sarah, a daughter, I reply.
A voice from a channel diverts me. Hey, it’s a chat with talk show host Oprah Winfrey. I go inside in a hurry to watch it on TV.
Wow, it is my pink frock. Come on, let me see you close by. I am getting nervous.
Hi mom, see I am on the show Oprah. It is an emotional outburst. All gather around to see me on TV.
To my surprise, the characters come out alive and I dissolve with them. Now I am teleported to the middle of the road,
I hear a voice
calling me from behind. I turn back to see Agnus running fast at a few steps
away. I allow her to come closer. I hear her breathing heavily, when I ask her, Cairnwell
Hi, why are you chasing me?
I made an escape like you, she replies intermittently.
Do you have the similar bad experience? I ask.
It’s too bitter to recall, she says.
Both walk together talking of various things under the sky and reach Victorian College of Arts. Madam Celestina Jayasingh comes on our way. Agnus starts conversing with the lecturer.
My eyes read the names engraved on the black marble, stuck to the wall. It must be the founder’s name, I think.
Lord Justice John Bartley,
Lord Justice Robert Brian
Lord Justice Edward Cronin
Lord Justice Oliver Fitzleones
Lord Justice John Campbell.
Is it the court? I wonder. A voice, I hear, commands as such:
… seen the names? A few have breathed their last. All others are still alive. Write about them in future.
A shock is sent through inside and I grab a hand in fear. It is my mom greeting me Good Morning, my child.