2

Drowning in a sea of despair, hopeless efforts were lost as well as faith. The serfs went back to their houses and no longer prayed, except for one of the elders called Mr. Declan. Despite the overspread of grief and despair, he kept his faith in God and in a potential shift. Every day, he would go to St. James' church, walking all five streets just to make the voice of his heart heard. He was a man of religion as much as a man of devotion. Every time he finished praying, he would go back to his house and sits on the threshold, admiring the moon and its brightness. One night, as Mr. Declan was returning to his house after performing his daily rituals, he noticed a fragile spark somewhere in the forest. Out of curiosity, Uncle John approached and what he saw was not expected. He found what looked like;

-" a tunnel in a tree trunk! ".

Curious more than afraid, he tried to fit into the tunnel but unfortunately, he was of a big size. Stepping back and looking once again down the tunnel, the light was somehow, gone. He was so dazzled by the extravagance of the unexpected scene. Having no words to put to expression to clarify the ambiguity, Mr. Declan went back to his cruck house feeling extreme dizziness, which made him almost lose the track of his footsteps, but he knew his house like he knew the back of his hand. This mixture of mud, straw and manure that composed a wooden frame onto which was plastered wattle and daub was his shelter and his forever refugee. Memories awoke within him every time he turned the doorknob. In fact, it was more than his house, it was also his grandson's playground, Robert. He tried to remember their memories together, but the dizziness was at its highest. He felt his head spinning or was it the ground? He heard voices around him whispering;

- "he saw it,…", "he must die,…"

Mr. Declan' confusion amplified and terror became his dearest roommate. He was losing his consciousness bit by bit, until he fell to the ground, covering his ears trying to make the loud whispers go away. However, their sounds became louder and louder and began to scream insulting words. He looked around, there was nobody, or was it? It is too difficult to tell in the dark. It could be nobody as much as everybody. Lost in his confusion, Uncle John tried to get himself up.

- "leave the house" that was his only thought.

Desperately tried to get off the ground, which seemed to pull him further down. Rooting to the door. He swore it was to his left side next to the window, but, but…

-" where is the window?"

Unable to identify with the current place he was in, which he felt was someone else's house. Unable also to form a logical interpretation.

-" did I lose the way?".

No, he never lost the way ever in his life. Mr. Declan started turning in circles, bumping into walls, and objects around him were heard falling and crashing around him. He stumbled into what seemed to be the closet. He heard his old collection of books falling around him, including his collection of pens. He knew it was all lost, but he wanted to keep something for himself. It was undeniable that he was about to die. He felt so weak in front of these evil creatures. He broke down into tears but gradually started to accept his doomed faith. His fear of dying alone surfaced again. He had always believed in the existence of something good, that escorted him morning and night. He did feel it this time, but he did also feel the inevitability of his faith.

-"Nobody would know what happened", thought Uncle John to himself. "Nobody would know that there is a light at the tree trunk".

A light, at last, the town will always sink into its current miserable state, and the misery will not end.

-" no, there has to be a way...".

Somebody has to know, Robert! Robert has to know. But, where is he now? If he says his name, the creatures around him will kill him right away. He tried to think properly, trying hard to remember.

It was the only way he still has left. His only salvation was his thoughts. His brain was the only place they could not access. He has to generate something, a clue that Robert will notice. He felt the creatures around him approaching as he heard their long sharp nails scratching on the walls. Based on their awful scent and the hissing tune they were making; these creatures were not to be approached since they were not human. Terrified, Uncle James started walking in circles again, screaming and yelling in his deep manly voice, when he stepped on his collection of pens. One thought came to his mind then it. First;

-" I need a pen"

Second;

-" I must look for the window"

So, he kneeled down as if he was about to fall, and held the first pen his hands could find. As he did so, he felt the creatures' eyes ripping every inch of his worn-out body with their savageness. Maybe he was a fool, but a noble one.

-" Still am, and will always be, a servant of the light"

Choosing death for the sake of the broader humankind. He thought of Robert, who was his only hope. How he raised him and took care of him after the sudden disappearance of his mother, father, and sister. Because of his great attachment to his grandfather, Robert did not go with his family to the castle garden's park on that Sunday evening, but rather stayed with his grandfather watering the almond trees and planting new ones.

-"One day Robert, you will be able to climb this tree, as you will grow bigger than it" remembering his words and their effect on the little three years old boy.

It surely meant the world to him to hear these words from someone as wise as his grandfather. He grew to resemble him in courage, and maybe even surpassed him, as he came to know pain at a very young age. Realizing multiple things such as how life is as fragile as an eggshell. That human capacities are smaller than an atom in the entire composure of the world they inhabit. That humans will always be primitives, running barefooted wildly, validating their chase of meaning by ignoring everything and everybody. Pretending that the road is clear and they have all the correct answers. Even if they do not. They will seek. They will deconstruct and then construct all over again. Modify that and alter it until it fulfills their purpose and, ultimately, nurtures their pride. Chasing the purpose of life is a long run since they are endowed with certain abilities that are only activated around the source. The source is surely God, and the chase will keep on until one's last breath.

Courage became statistical and life became bound to humans' capacities in enduring pain. How painful it is to live, and how courageous it is to die. In a world, too somber, where the clocks' echo would not be heard, was it all gained or was it all lost? To gain means to reign. To lose means to serve. Aren't we all servants, and aren't we all losing? Turning every single flame into a breathing shadow. Singularity was multiplied and the confusion was the only thing gained and ultimately reigned.

To confess to himself now, was the only choice left. Knowing, it was a game, in which we were all players.

- "Games, yes… all a game!".

Mr. Declan suddenly remembered a game that he and Robert used to play together. It was called; 'can you see the stars?' where he would point at a star in the bright of the morning and ask his little grandson if he could see it. Robert would lift his head up to the sky, where he had always longed to be, next to his father, who left without fulfilling his promise, that of taking him to see the wild big birds. Gazing so profoundly into the sky, he could finally see it. This game was, in fact, Robert's favorite game.

- "I will draw something on the window for him to see", thought Mr. Declan to himself. "I will draw it high up, for Robert to remember the stars,…".

The plan was found, but the window was not. Turning in circles, screaming and cursing, hitting every wall of his house in an attempt to find the window. He seemed to turn in circles because the floor itself was becoming circular.

-"If the floor is circular, so is the window," but, "where would a round window be located in?"

Not on the walls, nor on the floor where he had stepped. Knowing that every element was losing its shape. Apart from the lost colors, shapes were also lost. The essence of elements was fading. He knew it was a matter of time until it will all be lost, but not forever. There was still something to hold on to; there was still hope, and where is hope, there is life. He knew that at any given instant he would lose breath, since the house was shrinking and it was becoming unbearable to breathe. He reached his hand up to estimate how much space he still has to occupy, and there it was;

- "the window!"

Mr. Declan difficultly got the pen out of his pocket and tried to draw. Draw anything that his grandson would recognize. Too difficult, however, to draw and most certainly, to breathe.

…

Letting go of the doorknob after knocking a thousand times. Robert was fed up. His grandfather usually opens the door at the sound of his footsteps, since he had no one else to visit him except for 'his little boy'. Robert and his grandfather were so profoundly bound to each other. They both experienced abandonment and know what a bitter pill it has been to swallow. Estimating his options, Robert calculated the days that had passed ever since he had seen his grandfather. He only saw him yesterday, at the church.

-"Is he asleep?" thought Robert, but, "he does not sleep at this time, when it is supposed to be morning, since the moon has been gone for approximately five hours ".

Despite how lost Robert was feeling, he still insisted on finding a clue. He decided to get a glimpse from the window to see if his grandfather was fine. He held on tight to the almond tree in front of the cruck house and climbed its branches with complete smoothness. Well, the truth to be said; he was only twelve years of age. Full of youth and vivacity. He presented strength in both his body and intellect. He certainly was an admirer of life and whatever adventures it brought. So he called them; adventures rather than risks. He is not a risk taker. He is an adventurer, a boundless one. Climbing the tree was an easy task for Robert, but finding the window was the difficult one.

-"Where is the window?" thought Robert in complete ambiguity. "It is on the left side, next to the door…"

He reached his hand and touched the house's front wall; there was no window at all. Thinking maybe;

-" I have mistaken the house", because of the profound darkness this time, since it surely is;

-" it is difficult to distinguish the dog from the moose in this dark".

Blaming himself, Robert jumped back smoothly on the ground and decided to get back at night, when the moon rises again.