Wait...

Downtown there was a bar, and he used to go there every single day. He wouldn’t enter from the front door, he was known for his backdoor visits... people with privilege? I don't think so... to him he didn't really care...

That night, he went like every single day.. dressed in his "normal" clothes which seemed to be his costume for people who didn't know him... he walked.. in pride of what he does.. his 40sh look-alike face that is actually a camouflage of 27 years of a soul suffered from a lot in life seemed to give him the "modesty" he needed.. and he walked.. did i mention full of pride earlier? oh yes i did..

An hour later he sat at his doorstep in a cold windy night.. or to be precise .. midnight.. inhaling the fresh air.. and drenching himself with the silence of the neighborhood that is known to hide by dawn.. blindly he looked for the bottle beside him, raised it to his dry lips but then realized that it was already empty... he inhaled filling his chest with so much air.. and wondered..

what is his life he wondered.. how valuable his life is to him.. in the mornings he is between his books and lectures.. library and papers.. and many other things .. but his nights.. that is one thing that he isn't willing to let go of now.. at least not now..

With exhausted swollen feet he walked up the six stairs to his apartment.. shuffling the keys he entered.. he heard the TV on in the other room and slowly walked in trying not to wake him up..

he saw him lying there in bed.. so angelic that if he really was sure that angels had wings he wouldn't doubt that this person in front of him would have a pair of invisible wings..

how cherished his life was.. and how blessed he was regardless the looks of pity he gets from many of his neighbors.. he managed by time to ignore them and live his life the way he believes is best for both of them.. he leaned forward and brushed his dusty four fingers in the brownish spiky hair of his "mate" .. kissed his forehead and left to his room.. doing the same daily routine that seemed to be a norm by now..

enter the room, sit by the bed.. look at her picture and only now.. at this moment he is himself.. the weak person who always needed her.. only now he can cry endlessly.. calling her name would not bring her back.. a fact he knew

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Once upon a time lived a family of a mother and two kids.. her job as a beautician taught her that beauty comes within.. that no matter how much you try to beautify yourself.. its your soul that adds that "magical glow" on your face..

She taught her sons a lot of values mostly was humbleness.. her only two sons.. the "men" of this world she called them.. to her.. this world as big as it is had no men but her sons.. If saying "they are her life" would do them justice, believe me it wouldn't.

In a late summer day she fainted.. they thought it was of the heat.. but she fainted again that same day which worried her elder son and insisted to take her to the hospital. Surprising how a person can be diagnosed of a deadly disease in a day only. One's life stops in just a day. Actually it doesn't stop.. his past is on a very slow motion screen while his future is on the fast forwarded screen... few weeks later she was too weak to move, talk, and eat. Five days later she passed away.

That was the story of the woman he cries out her name every single night.. the woman who would have hugged him in her chest if she saw a glimpse of pain in his eyes.. now he only hugs her picture..

His younger brother.. yes the one with the brownish spiky hair would grow to remember his mother's face on her death bed.. and him.. he would keep working as a part-time teaching assistant at the community school in the afternoon and a garbage man an hour before midnight... that was why he used the backdoor !

Oh btw.. that bottle in his hand.. it was a bottle of Pepsi.. his DINNER !

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A Lost Dot:
Wait before you judge.... listen to the whole story first..