I awoke in an awe from a partial sleep, with an immaculate vision of a completely strange new place. Deep inside, I announced the place real.
Soon, twitching my eyes, I started to search for my loved ones with a suffocating soul.
I could see thousands in the twinkling of my eyes, but couldn't recognise any face.
Later, after a long search in the rust, I spotted a flash of a familiar face.
My brain, after a second's accord of confusion, recognised the person as Virgo Levararo.
Suddenly my feet paced near him with a mild emotion of peace and relief.
On my way, keeping my eyes fixed on Virgo so as not to lose him from my sight, I was analysing him.
Virgo was a man with 6 ft height and a heavy round musculature body.
But today he looked so diminished; even in his height he seemed too small.
To my shock, a memory—a past moment—rugged my brain: church bells being hit in pain, flowers and perfume fragrance goofing my nose. Nearby I could see Virgo Levararo laying on a glass cabin.
Yes, Virgo Levararo was dead. Last Sunday asthma had choked him to death.
The memory ruptured my courage, yet I was still gazing at the alive Virgo before me.
I stood frozen, staring at the living ghost of Virgo Levararo.
Thank you ❤️
To be continued....