Rainy nights are nothing but light to those souls who have been lost somewhere during the windy days.
The nights with empty eyes and a warm touch of his arms, a little sprinkle of old memories and a bonfire of a dreamy unborn tomorrow.
A little to say, a lot to express.
Sooner, he uttered those words in his deep voice, and all my unconscious thoughts start leaving my pillow secretly with growing darkness and a feel of slight shiver. I believe, another story is about to begin.
I wasn’t lost. I wasn’t alone for the remaining nights of life.
Night has its own way to tell what to do next when the mind has no control and soul is desirous.