Preesha, as frantic as she had now been yielded backwards until stepping onto something, something that felt like a banana being squashed. She couldn’t see a thing and didin’t know what it was.

For months her baby stood by the parking lot, just the way she had left it. No one said or did anything about it. The seven hundred and seventy seven on her number plates had faded. The rust too had slowly begun devouring it bit by bit crumbling it from the top to the rubber, it slowly died. Right at the night, the tiny village could be seamlessly seen lighting up in glitter, the mesmerising blue and golden sparks flashing into the skies. A beautiful sight to behold.

The village’s peace was on the other side of rest and solitude; it already contained the wisdom it needed. It is unchartered.