In The End, It’s All A Question

All Fiction Relies On The Real World In The Sense That We All Take In The World Through Our Five Senses And We Accumulate Details, Consciously Or Subconsciously. This Accumulation Of Detail Can Be Drawn On When You Write Fiction.

But Nobody Ever Forgot Anything, Not Really, Though Sometimes They Pretended, When It Suited Them. Memories Were Permanent. Sorrowful Ones Remained Sad Even With The Passing Of Time, Yet Happy Ones Could Never Be Recreated - Not With The Same Joy. Remembering Bred Its Own Peculiar Sorrow. It Seemed So Unfair: That Time Should Render Both Sadness And Happiness Into A Source Of Pain.

How Can Time Be Long Or Short? Time Is Without Length Or Breadth. The Question Is, What Happened During Its Passing. And What Happened Is, Our Lives Have Been Joined Together.

Time Had Changed The Magical To Mundane

The Worst Part Of Great Poverty Is That You Become Blind To It.