Monday, April 3, 2017


A short story.

The silent whisper speaks for itself.

In stutter your lips are reciting, but your heart are not. Crave your ears, as the sound of the shattering glass astounds beneath the glowing moonlight. In my times, such noises are considered as a harmonious companion to the champions and the fallen knights. As they embark on their hermetic voyage, they ultimately learned to embrace the imminent silence and befriend the true frequencies of their targets.

Included in that shortlist I am not, but having lived with the fabled their indigenous philosophies are inevasibly coursing through my bloodstream. A clear cut which manifests in a nocturnal being although charting an epitaph is by any means no easy task. It has simply been entrenched deeply into me. And for every knight, there had to be a princess, right?

The truth is, in their journey to knighthood an aspiring chevalier-in-training may have learned to inflict a fatal strike in a single javelin blow. Some others may learn over time the true grace of a bow and excel on the art of slaying beasts from the rear. And for some others, they prefer to simply watching from afar in the shadows, preying down in a more malicious yet subtle way without ever stepping down into the battlefield. Ah, the splendor.

Say, if you're hawk-eyed enough, you may have noticed that this doing of mine aren't devoid of evidences - here and there, my presence is virtually everywhere. Witnessed by the solemn stars are the virtues I had placed as a tributary in order to get myself into your breathing cycle. In fact, that feeling of knowing that my colors had blended in so much to the point that arguably I know you better than you know yourself... It's thrilling. Simply thrilling.

Unfortunately for you, escaping is now futile, as I know where you would have gone next. In all formalities, then - having introduced myself in a timely fashion - please kindly allow me to relay this heartwarming message to you truly :

Yes, I am your stalker, and forever will be.

~ n