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The Black Curtain chapter VII

This is for those for whom the link is not working….some could not get it.

“So, do you think, after hearing about my COPD and my high level of glucose and other higher elements in blood, you still want to sedate me Reasha?”

“I got to check that yet. The check in process is over. Let me see if we can make talking.” She never found smiling important, besides smiles had conveyed wrong messages to many people in her career, she was experienced in it.

“Yeah, tell whoever is your Borscht that I am off note and I can definitely not fly. I am not Bond or scavenger/avengers/revengers of any sort.” Marco flapped his arms and raised his thumb, to the two men who never looked anywhere else other than Marco.

“You guys are my true admirers. Yo-yo……” Marco laughed again as he sat in the sweet bar staring at the sweets 🍫 🍬 🧁…..

“Marco is travelling without the sedative, MAC is quite clear about it. He wants him deported alive to this strange man. Ohh yeah! One more thing we are doing ten more such deportations, so I guess it’s good news for you, another two years, we all have our jobs.”

She didn’t wait to observe the reaction on their faces and walked up straight to the sweet bar beside Marco.

“Yeah, So we talk.” She looked through some candy bars.

“Really Wow! good news for me.” Marco smiled like a child.

“You know once her mother, my ex-wife left, my daughter stayed back in the prison that day. My ex wife left with her partner, a rock show agent.”

“Do you want some Mam?” The girl wore a blemish free smile and all Reasha could do was softly refuse nodding her head.

“So, Tiara stayed back and she said this to me…..”

You know Dad, I often felt strongly that every human wants to fulfil their true desire, their true source. I feel your true desire might be poetry. I have collected all your work, as many as I could lay my hands on, and I published a book for you. Read it and love it. Write more and make a living with a pen. It’s far more peaceful and quiet than your guns and brawns. Let’s not leave a bad example, Dad. Let us grow to become whole again and it’s yet, not very late.

I still have it with me.

I began writing, mostly using recording devices to record them. I am happy now.

He brought out from his pocket quietly a green small book.

“She probably spent her pocket money, her mother send her for the month.” He chuckled.

Reasha noted that the front page was nothing ornate but all green, a point to begin life again and again.

Reasha Markownikoff was strangely feeling the kindness of this man, he was as kind as her own father, “a father in a father to a father of a father.” But then she could never forget that day when he snatched her from her own self.

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