WELCOME TO THE HALL OF OPINIONS
Pay no attention to opinions conflicting with yours. It's okay to send it to Coventry. A calm sea does not make a skilled sailor. The least I could revise on one thing that has been easing my route till here. I heard his footsteps on the stairs when I stepped out into the huge hall which is pretty huge than the word 'huge'.
He was living in great luxury. He halted halfway and leaned on the banister and fiddled with his phone until he saw me heaping with expressions to the floor. I conceded my heart was suddenly thudding in the interior of my ribcage.
His impulsive gaze made my skin prickle.
A period of misfortune and halcyon days crept into my deep reflective thought. I was dreaming soon. He stood and came in close site to me, yet I stood desensitized.
'come out!', the voice shouted. I woke up with a start. . .
'pap..a.!", I snapped out of my daydream.
He pleasantly perceived I suffered for the love of him. My gut swatted as it would pop out of my mouth.
His eyes stayed locked on me and felt numb at the same time. He was a molten mess inside.
I was dazed for the first few seconds and broke the ice gazing at him.
"I didn't mean..to...call..y-o-u".
"yea". Said a trembling father, wanting to burst out into a puddle of tears.
This was the happiest moment of my life. I, quite tempted, wanted to cry and lunge at him, which in these years, had been once in a blue moon. Before long I snapped to breathe freely again, and his fingers brushed my cheekbones gently.
He stood encountering me with his hands on my reddening cheeks and felt his throat tighten.
He wished to keep the ball rolling. He wished to Wrangler and exchange arguments with his daughter. For once, a thin smile spread over my pale and slender face. I eyed him which at any moment could come out. I had been suppressing it for a long ago.
Blissfully unaware of the approach. A little white cotton ball frisked around me.
I saw a chiwawa with dazzling eyes and furry fur. It was really small and fluffy and was nothing less than special. Well, Social issues or economic hardships force one to theft to fill down that emotional and physical void in their lives. I am stating logical reasons to see what is being proven and concluded at the end if I steal something very accidentally.
"I will always woof you choco".
"who's choco?", he asked narrowing his eyes.
"Well, I just named him, any problem?!", I banged.
"Nope", he smiled, shrugging his shoulder.
"He has been a promising pal to me, he loves a multitude to who I replicate fondness, even so, he might be a little too grungy and a little more possessive".
"Honestly, I always wanted one. He is soft like a muffin. you got the best, you won, everything".
I said lowering my head, dramatically of losing a game.
Surprisingly, we nattered away for a minute which rarely had been in a track of eight years. But I remember, I've to get something off my chest. I've to come out of that loop or dilemma or whatever.
"you are the one who plays the victim and evidence both", I said snatching his awareness.
"A sure thing, shoot", he shuffled.
He flung back his messy hair. I already had lost the spirit. He leaned back with the perfect angle and class. Sat like he possesses the world, and crossed his leg, and his foot in the direction across mine.
IT WAS PRETTY CONFIDENT!
whereas I sat cramped, not sure what all he had, or had everything anyone can wish for. I doubt, he was my father once, who lived under the same roof and shared chocolates. *A little exaggeration right there. It wasn't sharing, it was snatching.
"So, here's the thing, Blood is thicker than water, and if you do some research on it, I believe you may find it's very much authentic", I said, not sure of where to start.
"And, what if I say, a chain is no stronger than its weakest link", Father said, massaging his entire forehead inch along.
"I'm sick of that joke; cut it out, can't you?!!!", I snarled, beset by intense emotion to act rationally.
"My heart was big enough to hold so much love, but a burnt child dreads the fire, and watering chambers with tears was a thing to leave you, and it was a pity that your mother made you blind to my worthy qualities. By the way, idioms felt better unpracticed!", father exclaimed, and pinned in thoughts.
I sat like a patient on a monument, in grief. He did not willingly undertake this route to hell alone. His voice proclaimed suffer. I then start to realize that two wrongs don't make a right. There are two sides to every story.
He was overwhelmed by the intensity of his heavy old buried expression.
"It would have been better, if I chose you, not just better, that was the right thing to do", He said, giving over.
"Can you stop playing around the scenes and start with the record", I snarled.