• On a stormy night, in the outskirts of Miror, a heavily robed figure emerged from the shadows. His cotton hood draped darkness over the man’s flat nose and dark eyes which were inspecting his surroundings with faint curiosity. It was shortly after his eyes adjusted to the darkness, that rain started to fall, leaving heavy droplets on the mans attire and causing him to halt his journey and take shelter as the thunder rolled mercilessly through the pitch black sky. Even the moon refused to accompany him. The man was all alone. After this painful realisation, a tear fell down his fragile cheek, deep sorrow swelling in his eyes. He drew a deep breath but didn’t wipe away the tears, he let them fall, just like his heart, just like the rain. He was feeling tired, yet he could not sleep, for every time he closed his eyes, visions from his past haunted soul, leaving an empty space where the remainder of his hope used to be. He was broken, on the inside and out. He had lost everything, even the stars. He just sat there, waiting, drowning in his tears.