The recent massacre happened at a Catholic cathedral, killing 40 people. And more Catholic priests were kidnapped within a month. A deep sigh from me amplified my relief. But I knew even that was temporary. I was part of an almost-extinct group of people. I wore my chiffon cape on my plain black T-shirt. The cape, recently in fashion, hid my bulging tummy. I smiled at what I saw in the mirror. Walking out of my room, I find Mother and Lavender also dressed up for church. Going to church was dangerous, but even if I were to die there, I'd do it like some rich Lagos Aunty. But reality came after a thirty minutes drive. We met a long queue of cars at the church gate. A strained look decorated our powdered faces, speaking volumes of the fear banging hard against our chests. We watched cars get checked by the stern security guys before entry into our two-acre mega church. Looking away, I caught sight of one of the hefty soldiers from the military sauntering near our car, his long gun hoisted on his shoulder. His dark face reminded me of one of the scary stories that made up their reputation. And just then, an unusual sight caught my attention. It was a beardless fresh guy with oily skin in a black suit. He had his afro hair up like those who played musical instruments in church. His chocolate complexion screamed “Miri's style!” My eyes followed the eye-candy who walked smartly in his neatly pressed trousers. “My Sunday is made,” I murmured, smiling while the queue got to our turn. Lavender got out of the car to open the car's boot, so the security guys could check if we had a human head or some toy guns. Eye candy, aka EC, or rather Eecey walked ahead of us. And that was when my eyes caught the strange-looking briefcase he held unto just as he passed by the gate. An alarm rang in my head, “The briefcase!” it screamed. Guys here carried bags to church, not suitcases. I turned to my mother, who was waiting for the security to finish checking our car and let us in. I opened my mouth to say something, but Eecey felt my intense gaze and looked back at me. Instantly, my mouth curved into that melting smile I had been itching to flash someone. Our gazes locked for some seconds, with me smiling like some idiot. He looked away before continuing his brisk walk with the little briefcase. The car was finally allowed into the church. It was hardly parked till I got out of the car. My eyes roamed the premises. Eecey had vanished. It felt like the lives of almost two thousand people were in my hands. “Miranda! Miranda!” Shouts of my name whizzed past my ears. Before I could turn around, a pair of hands grabbed me from behind and turned me around. In all of these, my eyes were tightly shut. I was scared, muscled hands firmly wrapped themselves around me. “Calm down.” A delicious voice whispered in my ear. Time stilled, and I floated in the deliciousness of the raspy voice. The zesty smell of an unfamiliar cologne wafted in my nose, intensifying the magical moment. “Miiiranda,” The raspy voice purred into my ears, and my eyes flew open out of embarrassment. He had been calling for a while. I sighted my mother and Lavender among the agitated crowd gathered around. One of the soldiers stood with his gun poised, ready to shoot. My mother, who already had tears running down her face, had to drag Lavender down. I realized then the many guns directed at me and the hostage-taker. “It's me, Mira. I'm leaving. Tell them that,” He said firmly and nudged me with his knee, his gun at my head. I realized then that it was Eecey. “No!” I said, not actually surprised. The crowd surrounding us got energized at once. “Hit his jaw!” Someone screamed. But Eecey nudged me again. I knew I had to act fast. The soldiers looked readier to shoot than ever. “He's leaving!” I shouted and heard Eecey gasp in relief. The expression moved me, and strange confidence surged through me. “He's not going to kill me. I assure you!” I shouted again, leaving Lavender's mouth hanging open. “Miranda!” I heard someone call. It was Lavender. She had been rapping at the wooden table with her knuckles. And there I sat my laptop in front of me. I've had a character roam my head for days, yet I have been unable to put a word down for a couple of hours. Sunday service at church was uneventful anyways. “It's about another Eye candy right?” Lavender asked, styling her hair into twists. “Yeah, and you just dammed my inspiration,” I said crossly. “He was just about to have a mushy conversation with the female protagonist, telling her that she had saved everybody.” “And how did she save them?” Lavender asked in a sing-song, and I knew she was about to start teasing me. It was the third time I would create a character out of a good-looking guy I was attracted to. If I choose, I could make him a villain, or a hero in one of my stories. And that is one of the perks of being a writer. After all, it was just attraction.

Before my mom remarried we took trips to North Carolina. The weekend came and I grew ecstatic, knowing we would soon depart. I would eagerly look out the window. My eyes met trees dancing past. Other cars zipped beside us. However, my favorite thing about these rides were below the trees and cars. My eyes wandered down and didn't stop until they were in sight. My eyes were glued to the yellow lines. I imagined a tiny motorcycle driven by a dog in a tutu. Giggling to myself, my mother gave me a questioning look. My giggles stopped and I continued to imagine the motorcycle-driving-tutu-wearing pooch. It started doing flips. After awhile the motorcycle got boring, so I thought another amusing scene. This time, little monsters scurried around. They were different shapes, sizes and colors. Jumping on tires, climbing up to windows. One monster had 3 eyes and red skin and did the hokey pokey. Holding in my giggles was almost impossible. I didn't want my mom to give me a serious grown up face again. The red monster was joined by a purple monster. He was riding a unicycle. I stopped imagining them just in time to see we made it to our destination. Every weekend, his house became ours. Finally, we would go to bed Sunday and wake up at 3 in the morning. I was beyond tired, my eyes didn't fail to find my the lines. My imagination ran wild and the lines became my art. This time there were no motorcycles or monsters. Instead, lizards marching in cadence. It was like they were forming an army. I looked harder at the lizards and in unison I heard, "Left! Right! Left!" I couldn't help but laugh. My mother glanced in the mirror and raised an eyebrow. Quickly stopping, I turned my head back to the asphalt canvas. The unified yellow line lizards made me lose track of time. We were turning into our driveway back in Virginia. Sadly knowing that I had to wait a week to see the yellow lines again. Every day I waited patiently for Friday to come. Thursday came I packed my clothes. Then I made sure to go to bed early. At that age I was convinced that going to bed early would make the next day arrive quicker. Of course, when I awoke it felt as if it did just that. Jumping into the car, throwing my seatbelt on and impatiently waiting for my mom. My grin grew when she turned the car on. Then once the highway was in sight that grin of mine evolved until my cheeks hurt. The trees zoomed past my window, but at a slow pace. Cars joined us on the road embarking on their own journey but it seemed they were missing something. Then, my yellow lines were in sight. I pushed the dull trees and bland cars to the back of mind. I refused to let them bring me down. However, nothing happened. Well, nothing had been happening since it was merely my imagination. Except now even though I was trying, I couldn't imagine anything. Upset I closed my eyes as tight as possible. When I opened them I hoped my imagination would turn back on. It didn't turn on. Not even a small flicker appeared. My eyes became tiny waterfalls flowing to my chin. My mother heard my whimpers. She asked me what was wrong and I replied, "My imagination is broken." My mother must have not understood how serious this was. She laughed and shook her head with no reply. I peered out the window towards my yellow lines. Now, they were just two ugly yellow lines that seemed to stretch forever. The trees came into view and I hoped they would start to dance and not stay still. All the trees remained still. The only movement was the wind rustling their leaves and branches. My imagination was broken and there was nothing I could do about it. So silentlyI pouted in the backseat. Without an imagination, road trips were boring. After 4 hours we made it to North Carolina. Those 4 hours felt like an entire week though. We unpacked, ate dinner and after was bedtime. Before we all fell asleep, I went to my moms room. "Why is my imagination broke mom," I asked softly. Instead of laughing this time she gave me an explanation. Thanking her I ran to bed, excited once again. I couldn't wait until we left, mom gave me the cure for my imagination. So at 3 on Monday morning we packed and got in the car. Wide eyed I buckled up and smiled all the way to the highway. We arrived on the highway, I closed my eyes and thought real hard about what my mom had told me. I opened my eyes then looked at the yellow lines. I stared and stared and stared. I did that until we made it home. After we got home and unpacked, mom came in to my room. She asked if her advice worked and I nodded. As she was about to leave the room, she turned and asked what I saw this time. "I didn't see anything. I did what you told me to do. I just thought, instead of imagining motorcycles or monsters or lizard, I thought. I thought of our new family and when we permanently move to North Carolina. I thought of the new friends I will make and the school I'll attend," I announced. She smiled and kissed my forehead.

My home is known as a little country. It's so small that you usually get problem while trying to find it on a map. People say they never heard of it. They say people from my country cannot be what they want because they live in poor or because little country is underdeveloped. Well, I live in a beautiful country, with big lakes, long rivers, high mountains and strong people. But, in this twentieth year of twenty first century something changed and is still changing my view. This is the first time that someone came in my world, my environment, that I don't want to be friend with. This is the first time that someone came into my world, my city, and became that popular, but introduced itself just after killing so many people. Now it's around us. In our neighbourhood, our stores. It is all around us. In our air, knocks on our doors. That is our new passenger, it walks and it breathes. That passenger wants you, not your things. First time i heard how its' name, I thought it was a big joke. It got born in China. There are dead in China, there are surviving in China. It came to Italy and swam in the sea. Now it is in France and it tried their food. After while it drank coffee in Serbia, it flew over many countries and then. Corona virus is here. It was Tuesday, many portals, web sites, pages, news said that the next two weeks we have no school. To be honest, I was really happy because, the next day I would have math exam. In the first place, it wasn't that scary. The only problem I had was my brother. He was in Italy as a student and hung out with some people who had a flew at that time. On his birthday, he got a fever, high temperature, throat pain. My mom freaked out. My dad, who usually does not show his emotions, was really scared and dispirited. I have to brag that I also got a hug from him after a long time. One morning we got the call, brother does not have a virus. You can say you do not care because it is not close to you. You can try and maybe pray, there is nothing else what you can do. We are here, now we are in a fight, this passenger kills all day and night. Four months before my brother will come home, I had to decide what to do with the time that is given to me. Two weeks I was isolated, I was at home, just reading books and listening to some music. Of course I had online school, which was insane. Many times I had exams on my computer and I would be stressed out . Dad was going to work with mask and glows. Mom can get sick fast so, she did not go out. They were mostly scared about their son, even if he does not have a virus he is there and we are here. When school finished, I passed with great grades. My fitness coach has said that we should make a pause. I can not function without my trainings. With time, sunny days came and at least three times at week I went on six-kilometres-long trail with hills. I have my own workout routine, with my own list of songs.The passenger is still here, maybe could not buy a ticket to go home. Where is its' home, here is not its' place but, I think it does not know. Humans are still awake, we want to ask you to go, that is all we want to say. Huge windows in my apartment are really there for a reason. I exercise my eyes through them. I can see the main street, people with masks, kids, thirsty dogs and a lot of cars. One day I went with my dad to the store. We wanted to buy a bottle of oil. While we were waiting, there was a family with bags of two hundred kilos of flour. It was really strange but at least funny. We still have a lot of flour bags at home. Usually I am not drinking any juices, but somehow I stopped with sweets and bread. I read many books and have started with the music I listened before. Lyrics of their songs are amazing. I watched many films too, I am a huge filmochobic. Love for writing have never left me. Actually, during quarantine, I opened up my heart more and, even if I was in between „four walls“ my eyes saw more than before. I realised that I do not need to travel the world to see a miracle, I need to find one place, one person, one song or maybe one book to feel a miracle. Since I was ten I have been writing songs, but this year I started with English songs. Passenger still walks through our city, probably it likes it. Maybe melody should visit us and help. We need the real words to destroy it, not dog's yelp. So, my home is still known as a little country. I still have my name, my home and family. My eyes are with me too. My hands did not betray me, I write even more. Imagination is my best friend. I am truly sorry for everyone who lost someone in this time. . We can use this time to live, sometimes maybe smile. We can use this time to think, maybe stay on someone's side. This passenger does not want to go. I am pretty sure it stayed with us for too long, but we will outsmart it. We are persistent and strong.

I have trouble remember dates of most historic events. I am sure a lot of people probably have the same type of trouble. My hypothesis is that with my imagination I visualize the event as though it is a story, while first learning about it, I am given the date so I am able to imagine that time period. However, that is the last time I use the date when thinking about the events. So, when asked I have trouble recalling it, though I can recall a wide range like 500bc to 280bc ... I think the oddest part is that Icould probably describe the event very vividly like it is a story. Yet I cannot remember 3 to 4 exact numbers, and definitly cannot remember it, if months and days are requirements. My answer now is; If I did not know something in history occured or existed until today. Since I am imagining these evenrs taking place on this day. Then the date those days took place is TODAY, fore they did not exsist in my mind until this day. Mankind does not exist unless it is Present

Read the rest of this ......starts in medias res Also check that poem out(sort of a poem) .....its rough and possibly rhymes to close together like a a b b b b b .....also, its You as in, singing it to A girl, that i havealready met(r____ would be the only potential one) or a girl I have not met(most likely)... it would suck to never fall in love it is the truth i feel right now.... it makes my writing miss the romantic side, and for me thats a big side..a muse would apply here lol ... They could trigger the perfectionist, drive, and sensitive in me ... but the pitfall is they can also trigger the obsessive thinking to much loving tendency, & overly insecure side....... I tend to be attracted to the more dominate or artist girls( smarter dominate girls like H_____& R_____ they were not afraid to kick asses ) ..... or Artist like L____ (ballet & Art) understanding me better and far more interesting..I guess I loved her the most but as my past record shows,my love grows too quickly and even when theirs grows equallyas fast , at a certain point theirs will slow or cap out and mine keeps on growing into an obsessive love, they cant match, they get sick of me, & within 2 months its bye bye...... (obssesive LOVE, because it is not an obssesive sexual thoughts, it is just thr loving definitions without a limit, and beyond annoying) However, i WAS untreated Bipolar back then, NOW i AM treated so maybe it would be different, but i have a feeling it is my imagination & mind that turns me into The Love song of J. Alfred Prufrock ..... I imagine every scenario and It is always the sad outcomes that come tru(not the worst tho) unless the multi-verse of quantum physics is real, but in that guess I have split myself for every scenario I have imagined... The only thing that sucks is, my imagination is not able to deceive myself into taking action, be it is able to stop me from moving...but luckily thru fantasy, I can escape without moving ...but it cant replace what I miss the most and that has always been Love Although, one of my fears is, it was my Manic Side that got the girlfriend but it was my normal state that they left....after all, the manic side is the confident side....imagine how sad that would be, Why move?, I already know the results, just like I know I will probably never make it as a writer .. If there is a God or Gods, I would like to ask, yo whats the deal, why do i exist and more importantly what the hell? Like come on dude really, no one at all, u supplied no matches for me..and all i wanted as a kid was to fall in love...How the heck do i keep my fire burning if I have no matches to start the fire in the first place.... At least Now I am able to deal with that aspect now that I am older, it is not a Need like it was when i was younger, its all just A want now.....

He stared outside the window, looking at the children playing with their pants in the air, Without fear or worry of what was to come. smiling he, remembered when he was younger, when he was just like them when, he thought the only thing to life was eating and playing his football. that was, until he met her anyways. he could still picture her in his mind her lips and she pout, her scolding him, and her smile that he spent everything he had for. The colour of her eyes that saw through his soul, the words she told him encouraging him when he was down. He remembered the promises they made to each other, the words he whispered in her ears just to make her smile, the note he passed to her when he thought their teachers weren't looking, the things he said when he thought she wasn't listening. The time he spent thinking of what their future held, the moment he thought he was going to lose her and cried even when his father said men weren't suppose to cry. he knew then, crying wasn't a weakness, it was a strength admitting you were scared. He knew then, even though He might had been bad in everything even though his teachers said he was useless, he was sure he was good at making her smile. She was more than his everything, she was his vision and then he realised the saying was true; you becomes a man, when you discover something you are truly ready to fight for and his was her, she was the vision he discovered she was the one that made it possible for him to be what he was today.\n\n\\"you still day dreaming.\\" a voice said wrapping hands around him.\n\n\\"well can't a man day dream.\\" he said listening to the laughter that filled the room.\n\n\\"So, what were you day dreaming about.\\" she asked pulling a seat close to him.\n\n\\"A girl I once loved.\\" he smiled trying to read the expression on her face.\n\n\\"I though you still loved her.\\" she asked innocently.\n\n\\"I don't, she became me I developed something stronger that love for her.\\" he said kissing her softly.\n\n\\"well....\\"she said, pulling her body close to him \\"she still loves you I still love you and my glad I became your vision.\\"\n\n\\"you didn't just become my vision you gave me another vision you gave me the power to express my words.\\"\n\n\\"daddy.\\" a voice screamed cutting their conversation.\n\n\\"she is your daughter.\\" he heard his wife say as she ran into the kitchen but she was right, they were his and he was theirs and even when he spent his days fooling around they were there waiting for him when, he asked himself everyday what, was a home they showed him, they were his home.

He stared outside the window, looking at the children playing with their pants in the air, Without fear or worry of what was to come. smiling he, remembered when he was younger, when he was just like them when, he thought the only thing to life was eating and playing his football. that was, until he met her anyways. he could still picture her in his mind her lips and she pout, her scolding him, and her smile that he spent everything he had for. The colour of her eyes that saw through his soul, the words she told him encouraging him when he was down. He remembered the promises they made to each other, the words he whispered in her ears just to make her smile, the note he passed to her when he thought their teachers weren't looking, the things he said when he thought she wasn't listening. The time he spent thinking of what their future held, the moment he thought he was going to lose her and cried even when his father said men weren't suppose to cry. he knew then, crying wasn't a weakness, it was a strength admitting you were scared. He knew then, even though He might had been bad in everything even though his teachers said he was useless, he was sure he was good at making her smile. She was more than his everything, she was his vision and then he realised the saying was true; you becomes a man, when you discover something you are truly ready to fight for and his was her, she was the vision he discovered she was the one that made it possible for him to be what he was today.\n\n\\"you still day dreaming.\\" a voice said wrapping hands around him.\n\n\\"well can't a man day dream.\\" he said listening to the laughter that filled the room.\n\n\\"So, what were you day dreaming about.\\" she asked pulling a seat close to him.\n\n\\"A girl I once loved.\\" he smiled trying to read the expression on her face.\n\n\\"I though you still loved her.\\" she asked innocently.\n\n\\"I don't, she became me I developed something stronger that love for her.\\" he said kissing her softly.\n\n\\"well....\\"she said, pulling her body close to him \\"she still loves you I still love you and my glad I became your vision.\\"\n\n\\"you didn't just become my vision you gave me another vision you gave me the power to express my words.\\"\n\n\\"daddy.\\" a voice screamed cutting their conversation.\n\n\\"she is your daughter.\\" he heard his wife say as she ran into the kitchen but she was right, they were his and he was theirs and even when he spent his days fooling around they were there waiting for him when, he asked himself everyday what, was a home they showed him, they were his home.

It took nearly a week for me to grasp the words for depicting my thoughts on the paper. Few things make our life embellished in such a way that we are unable to define them. I realized this fact after getting spliced to the one who becomes my reason for living. This is a relationship called blessing gifted by God enfolded with love, care, understanding and much more. I still memorize the day when I was inquired about my plans for getting married during the initial interview for my current job. I replied hurriedly: “I don't want to be a caged bird with clipped wing”. Today a slight glance on my answer makes me giggle. I still remember the unforgettable golden journey of my life with my soul mate. The scorching Sun of August with 54 degree in Dubai has spruced my life tome with lots of vibrant moments. Each instant was constructing a precious memory filled with his saccharine presence. Within a month we discovered the beauty of the desert land covered with glass scrappers and the marvels of 21st century. I loved the Big Bus ride with its briefing service about the places we were visiting one after other. We decided to take our meal while hunting for the best cuisine after getting exhausted on the first day of our excursion. On the way towards the restaurant, as we entered to the foot wear outlet I asked him unpredictably: “what are we doing here?” As we were planning to take our meal first, he said to get the pursuit sneakers for me, so that tomorrow I will be able to walk properly without any throbbing. How come he knows that I am not contended in these shoes? You make me whole; my heart whispered….It is care with no judgments. We had the best dinning outs right from Palm Atlantics to the cruise dinning's ---.Each cuisine was giving a divine taste because they were amended with the fundamental ingredients of his love and affection. There were two fascinated things I wanted to try at least once in my life, since my child hood: One was to hover like a bird on the sky and other one to swim like blue face angel beneath the sea. I still remember the paragliding at Jumeirah beach. It was my first ride of paragliding with my beloved one. That moment made me speechless because he was adventurous to do those things that I was enthralled for. How come he knows that I was dreaming of all this... I enquired to the God… I felt like whatever I was asking to God it was all diffused in his mind. The more we were flying up the more I was feeling like I am the luckiest wife on this universe, undeniably. Next morning another surprise was ready which he shared while holding my hand: “Let's explore something new!” I asked him surprisingly: “Like what?” He said, “Let's go for swimming”. I was astounded and the only reply which I would be able to give was my tight hug with thankful expression to God. I still remember my first dive while holding his hand and heeding to his instructions in the glinting blue wavy water of the pool. I took a long breath and came out of the water with the feeling of freedom and success while leaving all the fear factors behind. I can't believe I have done it. You drive me mad, I embraced him tightly while yelling with pride and contentment of a dream comes true. A relationship of trust with no ifs and thens. I kept all the precious moments of our trip in my mind to be recalled specially when there are any pros and cons for silly things… A self-reminder when a voice comes from my heart that “I am blessed”. He is the one who adjudicates me more than I evaluate myself. He guides me before I slouch down. He always emboldens my every single effort for doing something new and crazy. He is the one who can read my silence if any discord arises. I adore you and my love for you has grown by leaps and bounds by every passing day. I am chasing to filch the magical words for extracting my feelings towards my partner. Everything gets a side except his love and devotion. Life is beautiful and is the biggest blessing I am rewarded with. Life is not about hunting for Mr. Perfect, It's about enjoying it with the one who makes it perfect! I got mine whom “I love so much” and suggest you to adore yours.

Are you a dreamer? Can you put all your dreams into a single life and make them come true? There are far away dreams, like stars in the sky, but in the world of literature everything is possible. We can live thousands of lives in thousands of places and there is no such a power in the whole world that would be able to resist blue sky thinking. The secret of eternal youth is hidden in books. If you are ready to try out a deliciousness of imagination, stay with me and I will treat you to my fantasy. \nLet us start with the first course, which is fairy tales. I have chosen this one, as the first fantasy children are treated to. \\"Twelve month\\",\\"The Swan Princess\\", as well as Disney's \\"Snow White and the seven Dwarfs\\", and \\"The Sleeping Beauty\\" were my first experiences of fantasy. Through fairy tales children get in touch with the real world. Magic had a taste of hot chocolate and was as natural and real as bedtime stories. \nNext, try out the main course and the most important one. When we are young, life is varied in its treats, but you want to be careful, when you reach out your hand to take it, you can get chocolate or marmalade, but then you could also get the flavor of rotten eggs or bitterness; life is not all sweet. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans is known as tricky sweets, but Harry Potter tasted them when he was eleven. The teenage time is a period, when we have no time to hesitate, no time to choose and just enjoy life with all its treats; it is a time to shine! Did you face \u2018dementors' and \u2018boggarts'? They take us aback, while we are trying out life. They are our despair and our fears; thanks to a defense against the dark arts I have fought them and now I keep living and do magic. My wand is my backbone. It is something you could not buy even in the \u2018Diagon Alley', it is an inborn gift, to do magic and it is important to remember, that all of us are \u2018wizards'. Thanks to \u2018Harry Potter' I have learned how to handle the wand since the age of eleven. \nWhat do you want to drink: tea, coffee, or the Universe? The Hatter and his company hold an endless tea party, while the time lord is travelling through time and space, but he always has time to have some tea. How do we use our time? Have you ever thought about it? Imagine all time and space in a cup of tea. No matter how much you have drunk, your cup is full. The opposite situation, when your cup is half-empty, but you have not even taken a gulp yet. These are the examples of how we are in charge of our time: we can plan or we can act. If you just flap you jaw, like Hatter's company you will drop the ball, and not touch the heights of your dream, you must run through your plans and then all the time and space will be at your service. When I was eighteen I tasted the Universe. \nDo you like spices? Any insipid course in our life needs to be dressed with spice. The lack of spices is the lack of emotions. Would you like to live through your previous day? If you are thinking about your day with distaste, it is time to experiment. What kind of taste has your life? I have been experimenting with the menu during my literature experience, so let me tell you what kind of cuisine the fantasy is. The battlefields pouring with dragon flame, the princess with skin of a frog, The Great Sept of Baelor stuffed with wild fire, enemies chopped by the Excalibur are the ingredients of a fantasy meal. If you feel like your life is missing \u2018spices', approach Terry Pratchett, Stephen King, George R.R. Martin, J. R. R. Tolkien, Lewis Carroll or Robert Louis Stevenson, to taste fantasy cuisine.