Реклама. ООО «ЛитРес», ИНН: 7719571260.
Dedicated to ………
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Far ……… against the eastern horizon, where the pale blue cloudless sky uncovered the duvet of the earth and was whispering to it, there emerged an orange glow of the morning sun with zero disruption of air pollution to enlighten another frozen day of the lockdown pandemic world; the world which had been fighting helplessly and hopelessly against COVID-19 coronavirus since December 2019. Flocks of flying birds without vehicles were chirping and honking while heading towards trafficless buildings, markets, offices, and schools as if they had undertaken human responsibilities in turns. Meanwhile, the toddler sun almost turned into the teen to pin our innocent eyes with its hazardous sunshine through the level four hospital windows, where my dad and I, the grieving survivors of the super corona world, had been honourably locked since May 23, 2020. We had been living here not as coronavirus patients but as souls for the whole humanity by sacrificing our super corona cells to produce perfect vaccines against COVID-19.
As soon as our breakfast was over, world famous journalists and media personals agglomerated in our tiny hospital abode and almost stumbled on us to uproot the truth behind that pandemic relief. They did not maintain the social distance because they knew that the effective vaccine had already been made by then. Too many multi-coloured microphones covered with diverse types of masks, which were held in front of us, certainly erased our appetite lines for the day. Among their oceans of questions, we could not but sink down under silence within a few minutes. We proposed to select one of their representatives who could regularly come at the given time to record our insights and stories behind the success and publish them for the whole humanity; whom we had never met and will not ever meet either in the future.
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No sooner had they reached down to the mountain to go across, than they became dog-tired. Smell of blood started hovering over their surroundings, which led them to think of the fear of vultures. Amidst the tiredness, they looked at the beauty of the plum blossom. Wheezing, huffing, and yawning! Energy boosted up in them to climb up the unfriendly rocky mountain using an unsecured vine ladder. They ascended on the terrifying cliff. I was looking towards them through the cell window of the prison. Closing my eyes, I thought I could not endeavour to bear that free rein of joy to meet them. Woe is me. They’re not there. Don’t worry, my chained life.
They descended to the other side of the mountain valley. They had some light breakfast down to the valley and resumed for another adventure. On the way, they found themselves surrounded by a wide wetland. There were no boats for the trip. My son was very creative, I know. My beloved son! He went to the bush, collected some dry tree log trunks, and made some ropes out of yucca plants to assemble them like a boat. Two flat thin logs were with them to row the boat. Normally, it should take two hours to reach down to the city, but due to their immense love and determination to rescue me from the down streams of the prison, they made it possible in an hour.
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