Trouble sleeping was the norm these days in the city. A city with swollen faces and swollen eyes. People appreciated each other's dull and enthusiastic energy in different areas of their life. A city with an aroma of tutti fruity ice-cream with a fever of invigorating cold. If you walk, you can feel it on your dry face.
Was it because of the strange booze of ice that was strangely felt by every other tutti-fruity lover?
Was it due to a creepy person who saw 'a terrible face hidden in his chiseled muscles? Was the muscles somehow extravagant for him?
Were his thighs odorless but not his arms for sure
His wife's trauma was the way it is. She believes that she is the most sleep-deprived person in this planet with a fashion of laziness. Shoved off that arm resembling a talking square-jawed face was one of the least predictable choices of her life.
Once in her lifetime, she slept. She or maybe he heard - Don't! Let! 'em! Ruin! You!
(There's something a lackey...(breath loosing) has that ... they don't. You want to know what? Memories! Emotional, heartout memories! Deep! They're going to be all so Christmassy! Showing their pseudo nature! Reality is different!)
(They have developed a cloying eagerness to your past pleasure sites! If you wish to learn the rules of any game, make sure to start calmly with punctured tutorials.)
His wife mustered the courage for a single action after a few weeks of that particular . Braved herself, skinned his whole arm with her might pulled out a cleaver at once. The arm fell on the floor with blood gushing out as if his left side puked out! It became slow and swell. Blasted off. Key-shaped symbol. He said, 'Similar'.
It was time for someone to wake up. A middle class home. It was time for someone to wash up. Mindful soapy water. A splash. It was lush green after a certain something fell in the basin pool. The water stopped. Later the water droplets itched. Boasted on his face. His irritation was beyond the limits, because of the greens.
The kid didn't have poise. 'No big deal' to that forest water. He hated it more because of it's smelly and foamy vengeance it took against that kid who called those washed ones as 'Grenleens'. The kid looked older in his dim T-shirt, that showed a neon swan at night. He hated his well-defined face most of the time. He admired beauty spots, straight eyebrows or shaved ones, not so elongated jawline with time. With arched brows and husky eyes, his face familiarized with a taste of animals. Eyebrows that might resemble a lumpy tail of a stupid lazy fox, eyes of a humble husky.
His unconscious mind did work, it did help. It collected all the dark green itch parts and smooshed all together. The forest green. It turned into a greeny apple that relocated from it's older position. The forehead hated being deserted and went below the left armpit. His conscious mind, said 'What'.
Duke's fantasy was out of question; That he should be born with that greeny area that he was so proud about which no one could see, and that gravely became the instinct. The greeny-bin was proud of it's evolution through millions of years.
Not just a survival mechanism but also a dominating mechanism. Out of question, his fantasies bloated out a sentence that shrunk him.
"I miss the old school days, I miss the day my mother held warmly in my arms." It was not brought to his attention that the greeny-bin had developed listening and grasping nature. It was not his past that he later transported to or probably not just transported but also deleted.
His birth was the shortest which he felt, as his attention span completely on that greeny area that fumbled, talked, laughed, cried, established itself 'The Instinct King' or just cared for the baby's exquisite face. Later, it turned out to be his father, mother, a loathesome species, named it 'sibling'.
Duke's foremost shaft. He learned in school, that a kid requires these three personalities which intricately make up your whole personality. So, he later gave a task to his green intellect to divide itself into five categories.
The categories diffused, connector and learner. There were four learners and one connector that remained on the Duke's shoulder for the sake of connection. Duke renamed those four greeny bubbly areas as Father, Mother, Sibling, & Personal privacy space.
As Duke believed that it should be. Siblings are for telling you that everything you do is just wrong. In a way, they seem it to be errorneous, and you could have done that possibly better through their customized way.
As Duke turned one, the Father returned after gathering important personality characteristics, and the Mother and the Sibling returned in the next three months. The areas became later familiar with Duke as a walking child who could talk and turned a quick thinker at the age of three.
His late mornings were nothing new, as he drank plain tap water. Grrrr. Stomach's visible sounds due to his late night cravings. His first want in the morning was to get firmly annoyed by his two loathesome brothers. His small height became extrinsically perfect for them to get their way. Never cared that they made fun of his dumb brain guided by some 'lousy' instinct which was like their job as he took birth.
As the youngest of the three siblings, he had always been an easy target for their constant teasing and taunting. But despite their efforts to bring him down, he remained determined to prove them wrong and make something of himself.
'Oh, look! Dukey Pie & his instinct just woke up. Would you care for some pie on your face, Mr. Instinct? 'Duke's brother Pastor exclaimed in a singy-song voice. Suddenly, Pastor's voice turned bleak and he was as a shaky squirrel. His grim face saw his twin brother who tried to poke hole inside those green & yellow holes which suddenly turned into fresh boils in a couple of seconds.
Pastor's twin Jeff never gave a damn about anything. Everything could float his boat even the social cues which he never cared about. Jeff's spitball took right on spot. The big boil on Duke's forehead burst into green flames, as it gave out green plumps of gels. It smelled coconuts.
Duke pushed his brother away and moved through. Shifted through the conjusted space and through. And CRIED. Infuriated with the pain that came free with his sense of conscious slowly deteriorating. The remain of the big boil that burst which certainly left it's signature on his skin. In a few days, there was a powerfully dismal news, about his father who died of heart attack. The doctors couldn't tell how it happened. They couldn't save his body, the doctors had their hell creep out treating the patient, the treatment although was successful before but it later turned out to be a blastive hellblazer. The body turned into smithereens in an instant in itself. There was no escalation or enlargement neither inflation. Their was no bloating involved, a gigantic push in every cell of the individual. The doctors believed that there was a new species that originated in the cells of his body, the species morale boosted downward /\
It was atleast an year or so at first. When he was of two or three years, observed rattling of chains for several hours. He saw that big plump of forest that turned olive green with burst. It made easy for doctors to create the worst case scenario, that it was a virus and will die once his body develops to it and learns to endure the infection or to immune through it.
The doctors believed that the burst somehow transported a person's senses or actual consciousness into a state of numb. The body's alive but there's still more to understand.
The doctors often called it as 'The Post Traumatic Stress' disorder but in this case, they were confused because of the Duke's ideal sense which did not respond for almost a month. Duke later could eat and breathe and also observe his surroundings, but no one knew that something was off with that burst of that boil.
Duke's mother was the one who beared to take the decision to bring back Duke's consciousness from the hell it went.
The society never accepted Duke's family. And it won't. The boils have a different smell. The society despises. Though his brave mother learned to fight back which was easy as buttoning Duke's shirt during his first day to school.
The teachers were ordered by the principal to pretend that the smell made them unconscious. The security guards were hired by her mother for his lad to cross the path between class to house safe and sound.
Duke's mother always made him recite though he intentionally used to forget - delete what doctors say, they are just humans. Infact, you know yourself. More than anyone. Just when you can't decide for yourself. Remember me and say 'Follow your instincts' and if still it doesn't do anything then repeat it before me.
Duke's first day at city school was a doozy one.
A blurry night at the excruciating cold Limestokes, in Ceiberg St. 2025
6:42 PM
"I can't do this!
Not anymore!"
A nervous and trembling man cried of boredom. Although, his not too-harsh voice never showed up those signs. He everyday wore a black navy coat with a yellowish-green tie which probably was washed after a week of wearing which was self-explanatory with the colours fading on the coat expeditiously.
It had been a month since his behaviour changed regarding his recruitment at this weird private company that hired him after just he completed his bachelors in entry level 'Code Innovationist'.
It's a company which someone would recognise as 'a lone wolf' in operating their business who would not like any amount of association with the government. Maybe it was because of the service package that government provided to their every responsible citizen.
He never really gave an ounce of thought that the company, he had been working for three years, hired him by just observing him from top to bottom and just by waxing off some hairs to test the 'internal culpabilties' if any as mentioned in the application form couriered to him after his graduation ceremony was over. Technically, this man was not allowed to reveal it's location because of it's precious huge architecture which didn't require any drawings or indiscreet messages or clumsy metaphors. The company's powerful guardian or custodians believed that the groin hairs or armpits revealed a person's deepest secrets. His wise and gullible nature was understood by them when he sent his armpit hair with his ancestral name.
Although, several companies had already joined with the government for security purposes with which came other material benefits like effective payjobs, every human got his own toolbox of weapons, and became his own "hitman" in every house. Some were scared of these not just unusual but scary advantages due to which they joined the private company. The private company was to be given a letter in which you had to write name of your ancestor to get the job application approved at your home. They won't accept your present name.
He moved towards a lozenge mirror, being no clue, that blew the breath of a lazy whale tired of being attached to a quaking dim white wall. This man's name was Duke Grand Martinho. This man's half-life passed in correcting 'people's misbelief' to change their job every two to three years. He believed it was his strongest plus point & his other plus points to be kept hidden. He vaguely thought that those plus points are hideous for the world that had to know. His desk job was inaccurate to him. Suggestion boxes were being discarded now, due to his overwhelming letters that had been his daily job. Instead of correcting the codes of a particular sentence on a computer.
There were problems that he might have tried to solve alone, however inaccurately. The mirror just talked about his past experiences which it had before its disfigurement had occurred and his lifeless entity jacketed with an ancient shining surface with arched markings in an alien language.
"Will you please tell me what to do, you're the only one who pretends to judge me & maybe succeeds too... I dunno... sorry...." The mirror gave no sign. It probably waited & waited. He moved closer and mumbled, 'Well?'
'Do you hear yourself when you say these things out loud?' The mirror's voice came out dusty, it was weaker than expected.
The mirror's superior back widened a sphere speaker-like substance, Duke's hair raising. The sphere echoed, "I always know what you're thinking, it's just that I'm strangled to speak by these insane Mirrorium laws" The man understandably folded his arms with mixed reactions. The mirror vaguely implied that the man was showing boastful behavior to the mirror as if showing pride in his autonomy.
'Real … Why is it me always? Don't look at me like that. It's not my fault if the big screen has shut your mouth.'
'They believed Duke Grand Martinho the most beloved son, fiendishly smart in the Martinho's. His two elder brothers always inconsiderate as themselves gave stiffened looks of jealousy to his striking appearances and profoundly at his adolescence. Lived in a flat of three regularly messed rooms with equally ridiculous attached bathrooms utterly filthy. Smelt like a leaky gutter." The mirror exclaimed noisy echoes which may mean blowing a raspberry at humans.
Duke turns around and approaches a white table. Things he often used looked abnormally clean. The thick white table included - his insanely old typewriter, a train conductor's pocket-watch, a tuxedo painter, and several cans of various color shades. The typewriter was in his room because of the rituals of the Martinho family. They considered it the only sign of their great grandfather. Once, a train conductor observed Duke's consistent facial cues on his pocket watch. With the fact of his unconditional love for trains, the conductor offered him the watch which he solemnly perceived.
'Oh really, please tell me if I can break you" Duke whispers coming near to the mirror's sphere glued to the frame's long edge.
"Breaking my glass doesn't solve your problem or .... change your fate," the mirror replies in a half-shrugged & feared voice.
Duke never liked his name, 'Duke Grand Martinho'. His classmates always mocked his name. During morning prayers & during lunch breaks & also in the toilet. It must've been a privilege to call him names while peeing. Being frustrated and very annoyed, forced him to make it a habit of bearing it by transversing painful moments of silence. He knew the problem was in him, he falsely believed that it was wrong to bust someone with their names. Duke was still a loner, shy & very anxious person. It was hard to compete with other loners who still wandered down the streets of Ceiberg at night. He rarely went or had a night out with his loner friends. His top priority was his 9 to 5 routine which he flawlessly followed. Too introverted beings can be easily labeled as 'weirdos' or 'snobbish' by societies. The ones in which they live.
The sphere-like substance flashed a neon lazer in his left ear. A lukewarm wind passed & his ear became rigid as he heard a high & rough voice speak, "You may think to provide fake love to Beverly and wanting coitus with her. Succeeding in it may add up in your three mistakes of life."
'Hang on, now aren't you breaking the law? You gave up & just told me something.'
'No, I didn't. You're asleep.' The laser beamed on his ear again.
'How can you be so sure?' Duke asked in a triumphed voice. The mirror became transparent & showed his adjacent belongings. How about that? A greenish-brown specimen sat licked & holed the wooden chair with his long needle arms. The specimen's arm stuck inside the chair & his fine black eyes stared at Duke sharply for a minute. Duke's movements became agitated & he woke up.
He lay on his dry cold floor with his mouth aghast & insects going for a walk on his chest.
He jumped up & pressed his eyes hard, he said, "Don't make me feel awkward. You know the rest."
"Yes, I know. A sheer coincidence. You wore a check shirt with smiling red squares and tight white pants and she wore a white skirt with a red top, a love match, or just a twist of fate or what. It was just as I thought of 'Shee- ".
"Ya, okay. Let me think about it."
"Son, Telling the future isn't fed in my frames, but one thing is certain that I can probably tell you. The mistake maybe is a regretful one. You might label yourself as a prodigy of errors. It may fill you deeply with sorrows and break you mentally," the mirror's screen was slightly fragged with a crying voice.
What did the mirror mean by that? Why was so obvious? How was the mirror constantly breaking laws? Maybe because the mirror profoundly cared about Duke more than anything or maybe if Beverly is the right soulmate of his, he'll start a new life with her & he won't pay proper attention to the mirror rather than now. Was Beverly a mean person from the inside? Was he doing the right thing? What if everything possible goes wrong, he'll never be able to forgive himself and his love life will be in crisis? A dozen questions just met his mind house as uncalled guests. He wasn't sure how to react. He overthought gleefully & abnormally liked it.
"Don't make this hard for me."
If I was making fake love which is your possible understanding, then why has she invited me to the Party Prissonea, the famous engaging restaurant especially made for couples. Sees the text message.
Dukes,
Meet me at the Party Prissonea at 8:30 PM.
My parents aren't at home too. See
yaa my buddy bud…
Address: You know where it is. (an emoji
with heart eyes)
Beverly
The mirror fell silent for a moment. Mirror was filled with doozy expressions. It was hard to guess usually. An impression of this world with frequently twisting thoughts and actions. Maybe a vivid plan was just being hatched, or maybe still confused, perplexed & likely in the making.
Duke left his room, his mobile charger was connected to the plug socket. He took his coat from the Almirah, filled with dust. He stretched out the coat as crawling spiders fell yawning. The coat got washed out and ironed.
That night was heavy for him. He suddenly got a tinge of affection for the primates suffering from Insomnia. Being insanely happy, he couldn't stop thinking about Beverly struck in the prime of that night. A thought struck him & his eyes opened as he sat up.
It was or wasn't possible more often if that dazzling mirror didn't come into his life. He was weirdly connected with the mirror which he believed to be a magical connection. This blazing fire thought process was interminable & evolved into dreams which freak him out every single night.
That night was no different.
Flashback
Mirror's flashbacks were never-ending. His nostalgic dreams are completely linked with his night mind. An ongoing process that remains as it is. Duke believed and thought about the mirror at usual times; with a clear conscience. Due to this, his most uncomfortable memories were entangled with the mirror. Duke mostly let his mind, be entangled. He knew the reason behind it but never revealed it from his lips.
A humid Tuesday started with his freedom and a well-settled & autonomous life as he registered his flat located in Ceiberg 0202 (after shifting from his parents' house self-assured in Ceiberg 173). A 9 to 5 job was his staple diet.
A two-story flat, attached kitchen large enough to spread, linked with a living room, with a small door that lead to one room opposite to the kitchen on the ground floor. The house was a silent hill. It was a residential area with no traffic zone. Residents turned up in the morning with a random house object. It was a part of powered tradition.
It was a white marble staircase. It looked fine. It led to the second floor. No wonder Duke thought he might have been one more double bed with a small table and a huge Almirah.
Duke goes upstairs and turned the doorknob. Jammed. Eccentric like many years old. Duke tries badly to push the door but fails. Kicks it hard and with his toenails crooked. The iron doorknob disintegrated from the wall. Straight dive like a bungee jumper. Dissolved into thin air. He shockingly whimpers at that sight.
Unfortunately, the room was more of an ugly storehouse. It looked as if it faced a disaster or a catastrophe. Filled with dirty ragged things and covered in the atmosphere of mud & dust. Duke had a sudden suspicious thought concerning the room, that it was more of a locked, suspenseful room. Cleaning the storeroom floor didn't give him any majestic power.
Examining things, he observed a unique 'brain on a stalk' mushroom of its kind. He took out his phone and clicked a picture transferring it to a webpage.
Searching the web, after he saw the plant. Seemed very rare or very dreadful. Anyone near the radius of 5 meters, is likely frozen or transferred, beware of the stare … The webpage showed an error & closed itself with the phone blankly closed. The concrete place loosened & turned upside down. The marble floor turned into dark green grass with the roof vanished & cleared reddish-brown sky with small indistinct layers of yellow.
Everything shape-shifted into algae or fungi. The ambience was sticky & squishy. He remembered his mother complaining to his father regarding some squishy stuff that couldn't be destroyed and also the world shouldn't care to know. No cross-ventilation led to an air progression, heavy breaths to just stand there. He winked twice. Deliberate. Wiping his eyes, he jumped through and bumped his head hard over another shelf that was open. His mother's timing was scary. The filthy air only gave out a few coughs. Not any of the severe diseases like pneumonia, cataract or asthma to develop. The algae that began to develop was now not there anymore. It erased itself is Duke's theory.
He was lying on the concrete wooden floor, with the marble staircase sticky as usual and the room open. Being upside down. Gravity didn't work.
Dusting furniture was what he did for a while. He imagined it to be long. It became longer. He had to clean again. And one more time. And one last time for his sake of breath, not to develop any other ailment.
His soft-sided brown baggage was defragged & labeled accordingly by his caring & affectionate mother.
MOTHER? At his house. Even the dusty walls didn't tell him. She being tall helped in wiping out spider-webs.
An attached case is labeled 'Personal belongings'. Opening the shelf, something hit him hard on the head, a shining surface came out from a deep darkness. It felt to be acknolwedged and worshipped. Duke caught it with his single might, it was reflecting on the floor, opaque from its surface area or edges. He moved towards it and tried to sense what he visibly had found.
Below the shining surface, letters were inscribed in not-so-straight lines that said 'USE WITH CAUTION' painted dark red with a symbol that looked like dry seeds. Duke imagined roughly which he always did. What if it was an interactive surface that scared the hell out of beings. He steadily pulled it seeming as if disarming a thermonuclear bomb, gets confused for no reason after all he didn't find any dark things or danger in it. It was just a mirror with scribbled marks and parts slightly shattered around the shelf. He assembled the parts in a small basket and took the mirror to the ground floor shifting to his living room. He kept it on a white table and linked the parts to the right places. He headed outside to buy groceries and a repair kit to fix the mirror. When he returned, the mirror was perfectly joined with every single piece of glass intact. It was shining more than ever. There was not a single scratch visible. Duke was frightened, dropped his groceries, and came near the mirror thinking 'Who could have done it? Am I fantasizing? He pinched himself so hard that the arms got red spots, but it had happened. He was in a panicky situation and heard a shaky & murmuring voice from the mirror. He steadily moved near the shining mirror and heard those dull voices again.
"Hello?" He spoke.
"Please, I am sorry – don't break me, noo-" a voice from the glass tremblingly echoed as if unoblivious & scared from an evil glass breaker polishing & heaving its hammer to frag the mirror.
"Hey, no one's gonna... break you... calm down, but wait, you? Where's your mouth? Where is the tongue? No teeth? How is it echoing? Your screen is vibrating. What's the source? Where's the voice coming from?"
Duke heard its fast heavy sighs & breaths which sounded like a blue whale coming from a sphere that slightly turned its skin black from reddish-pink. The mirror calmed down. Its breath echoed in the room.
"Have you ever spoken to mirror glass?" the mirror's questionary came in a very resting voice.
"A... Yeah ... I don't live here yet, just entered your house." He lied worrying about the trembled mirror. Duke was a serious introvert.
The man answered while he sat on a dusty aluminum chair. "I have bought this house from a man Mr. Witkins, I first lived in"
"I got it. You lived in a pathetic mess and now you are feeling better than ever after leaving that for good," The mirror interrupted.
"Who was breaking you?" the man asked in a deep voice.
"No one. I would get terrified after sensing someone's movement, won't I?" the mirror replied. Duke's brain created sudden sensations which turned so relieving & familiar after friending with the unusual talking mirror. The mirror sounded like a giant robotic dictator. His goosebumps were genuine after hearing the mirror's voice for the first time. Duke was feeling like an awesome kid who had a talking mirror with motion sensors.
"Hey, awesome kid. No fooling me, you get it?" The mirror replied.
"Can you read minds?" the man asked in a strangled voice.
"No! You fool! I can only read sound waves or for a layman like you, can understand sound waves and elaborate them into different patterns of data gathered by amplifying and converting the funny waves." The mirror grunted, "Which you didn't hear from me?"
"Can you really & I'm sorry?" he asks surprisingly to the mirror taking so many silly pauses.
The mirror takes a pause and says yes. Duke had a feeling as if the universe was, unfortunately, signaling to him that his life was going to change. He didn't like change. The only baffling change which led to not so harsh consequences he faced was – encountering a faithful mirror with an ability to talk. Maybe that was the last thing, he demanded. He thought of it as a kind of blessing & moved on. If he had been with someone & found this mirror, he would have said to him/her - What makes you think, I give a shit?
He didn't know any other human who could talk to mirrors. His life was like a solitary reaper with two small birds which flew & came into his nest & consumed him. A mirror that could not speak lies. A mirror that could not predict. Humans create dozens of lies anytime but the mirrors cannot create or speak not just lies but anything. If they do, it's an unforgivable offense or like a lifelong sting perceived through the mirror's world of angle. In their world, it's considered a sin. The society of Mirrors will insult you, your whole life if you commit a creation. There's still hope, that is you can create and store it in your vault of mind.
Fortunately, his meager moments became gleeful talking with a just-became fascinating true mirror. At the peak of the mirror's problem was its silly level of horror. The mirror's con was being scared of a small and without effort.
Its greatest fear was nightfall. With its vantage point of imagining things that didn't exist. It didn't like darkness. It is believed that one day in the world would come ... when the darkness will genuinely engage so much ... that it will create an evil monster who further creates a high-powered laser which possibly destroys the whole world resulting in other planets blowing up & following the ritual of blowing.
The problem was still visible, with no minor change visible. Tuesday night was very dreadful. The mirror's fear went off the charts. It woke Duke up fairly after a few moments of sleep flew away. Duke's thoughts of turning the room lights on and sleeping in his lobby. This idea fetched him enough sleep to tolerate the mirror's reactions. But it wasn't far-fetched. That cuboid had become an interminable nightmare, it interrupted him after every four hours of his sleep. His mother being a psychologist gave him the idea to try systematic desensitization. As mirror's characteristics were humane to fight its fears.
In this method, the motto was to remove the main part of the phobia, darkness. The main intruding task was to bear the anxiety-producing stimulus. Starting from dim lighting creates an ample amount of light for the least anxiety production.
"Hmmm…. eeeeeeuhhhh…Duke…you there…. buddy. I knew it. He is no more there, he is eaten by that nasty...., sinful monster. I am very sorry for you, buddy."
The mirror started emitting crackling voices and started opening the layers of its glass. I heard two people's voices coming around. The mirror thought those might be the henchmen of that monster.
'Take good care of your glass, Homeboy.' An old blond woman who wore boot-cut jeans said admiringly. She was wearing a grey sweater with yellow buttons and a green bonnet.
"Okay, mother. See you later." The man walks through the hallway and enters the house. He makes his way up to a room with cracked pieces of glass.
"Hey buddy, it's me, Duke. Can I come in?" Duke asked in a low voice.
"W…wait." The mirror started engaging his cycles and winding up the layers by tucking the small broken pieces, creating new layers. It gathered the new layers and a new look made with a strengthened shining.
"Yes. Come in!" The mirror exclaimed loudly.
The man opened the door and got floored after seeing the new mirror.
"You look different." The man exclaimed.
"Nooo, I just altered my layers to look more striking."
"But you told me about the Mirrorium you were" "Oh, yes but it is forbidden by the Framistry Primes (the ministry of Mirrors) to provide the information gathered from there."
"Oh, I see. But, can you give me some hints for my future or problems or anything you like about my future?"
"I'll give you a bit of advice – The path will provide you with a better tomorrow and an adventurous life. To be remembered, an experiment is that a soul is removable, from the tight-skinned & slightly bulgy brain. 21 grams. Don't break me if nothing happens." The mirror changed his appearance on its screen. Unexpectedly, his nose looked like a semi-circular tunnel on his face and then got enlarged as if there was no face ; only a tunnel opening.
"That's funny. I am going to see Beverly. Don't do someth- you won't, see ya."
"Ya. Bye." The mirror replied. The man stood up and left the door. He heard a knock on his main door. He went near and asked who it was. In the big brain of his, he thought that maybe he was not spending much time with his beloved mirror, which would more or less become obscenely desperate to see him. The mirror might feel as if it is non-existential. Duke still desires it to understand. For Duke, it's been difficult to arrange matters for people who constantly position time from their goddamn busy schedule to give clarity to him being insane. In his everyday routine, his basic instinct had learned all sorts of people who are there to show him that insanity is doing the same thing as Einstein said. Duke sarcastically thought that Einstein likely did the particular same thing, but you won't make his life miserable.
A voice opposite the door replied, "Your Paaa is hereee.
Open the door, yo' nutshell!
"Ok. Just a sec" he replied. Trying to clean up, he slipped into his slippers. Tucking blankets. Opening the door, he shockingly says, "Yes, Oh! You guys. Nice joke. Nearly sounded like my daddy." On the door, there were two nearly middle-aged men. One was slightly fat with a clean shaved face although the other was a short guy whose mouth looked sealed with hair. His walking–dancing steered a profound interest in music.
"We brought you a present. It's a doll of your dad's favorite actor Mr. PP, none other than Pope Pontian."
The short guy showed him an elf doll of an American actor who wore a loose white collarless shirt with yellow pajamas and a drooping red mustache.
"Why would you do that?" he replied wearily.
The two men were traumatized by his quirky looks at the doll.
"Why, what's wrong? You said it was your father's favorite doll. I thought you liked it."