Life can't be pronounced with out I !!

Somebody said if you don’t do what you love the most, you would never love what you must do.And I decided to write more often.
Unlike the customary style of crash ending my new-year resolutions, I hope and I think I am quite determined upon the fact that I will write, well, more !

Now brooding over a topic that I wish, would lure the readers, I am convinced that I should offer wings and watch it take shape and fly gracefully. And she is called imagination. So here it goes…

Warning: By the way, I have no clue, whatsoever, on what is going to appear underneath !

He is called Dave . (Now Dave has been some sort of a fantasy name I used to have for so many imaginary characters…it’s not that I like it much , I Love it).

And he is roving around the book store, whiling away time. He loved to read, yes, but , not today. He was expecting someone.

(Well, I shall be using present continuous through out because Dave and the events enveloping his life, I believe, are real and current and I do not know how it ends, so I make it present continuous).

He is waiting for his dad to come and pick him up. It is a Saturday evening and Dave could not have been more lonely. By the ways, Dave is a brilliant boy, well, may be not brilliant enough to solve his fourth grade mathematics questions but brilliant enough to be emotionally stable and patient while his home is on the rocks.


He just witnessed his parents take split ways and he knows he can’t anymore have the home he loved once. His dad has moved out. And 'Red Tulip Cottage' has become quieter these days . Dave believes it's because his house misses his dad and sometimes wondered if his mom did too.

Dave spends his weekends with his dad and the week days with, ohh yes, his mom.

Every time he finds a man in glasses and jackets and a smile, his heart skips a beat and he goes on to look the farthest possible to find his dad coming. His dad is the most handsome man in his life.

He is restless and bored too . He can’t wait for that one whole day of candy bars and cheese balls and cinemas and his dad’s companionship…

... To be continued.

(I have been lately reading too much of Jaqueline Wilson collections and Dave is an inspiration from those. The tale might continue as and when Dave’s life moves around or so when I feel like it ).

Dave is 9 years old, by the way.