friday the thirteenth came and went. an unusual one it was. an air of inconceivable quiescent tranquility about.
this black friday was spent in slow motion, trying to catch up on and comprehend a book. a book of thickness that should technically not take me anything more than a couple of hours. strange as it may seem, it has taken me days to get through the dusty spotted and wrinkled yellowing pages.
as the seasoned pages were flipped with the utmost gentleness and respect, several stories of old unfolded. reading and rereading through the told tales, understanding and comprehension dawned like a slow awakening though there was a funeral ongoing downstairs with the chanting of religious scripts and clashing of cymbals and bells. the arising of quiet chaos.