“Well, I remembered, we have eight holes and we are addicted to another pair, our ear holes than our noses. We breathe less and we lay our ears out in the open fractions. Most of us are even addicted to this form of living.”

“Yeah, messy shit holes, the waxy, crammed dark places where the darkness whispers into the void creating dirt, filth and more wax each day.” Reasha was tired from again having to find out the reason behind this attack.

She had called Mac while boarding the flight.

Even Mac was not aware of the attack, sometimes Reasha wondered about Mac’s involvement.

The flight had begun and she knew she could at least rest for these few hours, do normal things, look around normally. She was pretty sure she had left all the comedians behind for now.

She closed her eyes and the setting sun seemed like a warm gift to a tired soul.

Marco was beside her and he seemed shaken, tired, bore a haggard look on his face.

“Who were these guys?” Marco’s inquisitiveness found a new foothold and his mind was racing at the options. Before he glided his body out of the plane into the irrational world where every dot seemed to connect Marco’s mind to the right point had to pass through Reasha’s sporty logical reasons and aptitude tests. The question would put that part to rest.

“I don’t know. Mac, my boss says even he doesn’t. Good part is they were few and themselves doubtful, hence managing was not a problem.”

“Hmmm. I see.” Reasha looked innocent to a man born to meet the evil at every corner of life. Now, he was sure to launch himself into this awkward world.

“You tell me, you must know if they were behind you.”

“It could be. I am not denying that even after twenty five years of hiding, a pseudonym and all the dust around me and on me, someone out there still does appreciate my presence as much as I do.”

“I could have failed. Do you know that?” Reasha told another fear of hers, out loud. She was becoming fearless from letting others know them and ruin them much before she anticipated their success.

“Silly girl. Aye must know failures are a pile of rubbles to cross the boundaries. The more roubles you have beneath you, the higher you stand closer to the wall.”

Reasha had never heard such an optimistic answer and for a moment, a huge grin crossed her lips, she pursed them to stop it.

“Wow! The world should have thought so.”

“Why would they when you stand higher even if roubles, but if you know to balance, you can cross it faster than them. Precisely why, they stop ya from seeing this plain fact.”

“Marco, you are nuts.” She was laughing aloud.

She looked back to see if the boys noted her unvoiced happiness, newly found with a man who doomed her twice only to save her thrice.

“Mam would you like to have a cup of coffee?”

“I want some and some water and a little supper. I also want dinner. Right now I am stuck between being ravenous and being famished.” Marco looked at the air hostess who seemed to melt at the words from an old man. Old age makes you really capable if only you know how to use it well.

Reasha took a cup of coffee, thanking her.

“Remember balance is the word. The path.” Marco winked once and ate like, he was hungry for ages.

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