The 75 – year old hawker runs tirelessly from one end to another of the train. His heavy thick-glassed spectacle gets slipped and rests on the tip of his nose. No time to adjust it. He is very hasty to accomplish his sell.
LLC03: My Last Love Letter
After 19 years again I opened my pen for you. Last night when I got your letter, It seemed thousands of moons started peeping through the open casements of my home