In
the stillness of night, despite of face shield, his clouded eyes struggling
with smoke and flying sparks. Though his back was swaying on his sweaty legs
but there was an experience on his wrinkled face that relayed, the harsh heat
couldn’t trouble him at all, past day’s conversation with his master still
hovering around his vision.
‘For
god’s sake, you’re almost forty-one. Are you sure?’
‘I
really need to do this.’
‘Total
madness! I’m telling you, who would join a school at this age?’
‘One
who would have spent his whole childhood as dish-washer, amidst faceless city.’
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| Frame 43 |