Tender memories, once upon a night, welled up a lonely heart of a man. It was late in the evening. He came in front of the house with an air of mystery. Its interior was elaborately ornamented with a feminine touch. A faint light revealed this. He made no deliberate attempt to move up the stairs to the front door, but he waited a while.

His heart was full of deception and he would not trust it nor would he allow its sublime strength to whelm him. Why was he here? maybe because he could not ...