I wasn’t lost. I wasn’t alone for the remaining nights of life.

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.

Night has its own way to tell what to do next when the mind has no control and soul is desirous.