HALF FACE (Get lost into the parallel Time)

FOCUS

"Time is a mysterious journey to the past

Surrounded by rules, waiting never lets it move fast,

Turned to dust, turned to ashes, unified in the wind,

Once fire, now burned out, once roses now impossible to find.

Became an idea to the thinker, turned into a tragedy,

Became a wind, opening a road to the past,

Once obvious, now out of sight,

When gotten hold of the pure self, ceased to last ..."

Two days ago ...

Lehtar woke up with a prevalent body ache. He had a restless night because of the rats wandering around, making continuous noise. He stayed in a pitch-black room where there was almost no light at all even in the morning.

Getting out of the bed with difficulty, he moved to the door. He felt weary because of the smell and lack of air in the room. He opened the door, took a handful of walnut and raisin out of the pocket of his jacket hanging at the back of the door. He started rapidly eating the contents of his palm while deeply breathing the fresh air in the hallway.

Being tall and strongly built, what he had in his hand would probably be enough only for half an hour.

His helper and Mihca were staying in the adjacent rooms. Six soldiers that accompanied them stayed on the ground floor. Last night, he did not go to his room until he made sure that each and every one of them were comfortably settled in. Though he had quite a furious attitude towards his soldiers, he was very sensitive about their rights and comfort.

He went back to his room after finishing his snack. He picked up his watch on the bedside. It was past eight. He straightened his black hair with both hands and put on one of his favorite clothes. The room was a little bit lighter when the door was open. He gazed around the room and realizing all the mess and filthiness, thought "how did I ever sleep in this dumpster?"

We got out of the room looking into the adjacent rooms. His helper Azzaf and Mihca were not in their rooms. (Hearing voices from below, he thought they might be downstairs).

He slowly went down the stairs and saw that breakfast was ready on the table. The owner of the mansion had a young son. The fat and the ill-tempered old man who greeted them and prepared the rooms yesterday evening was nowhere around.

"Who are you? Are you working here?" asked Lehtar. He was already seated at the table.

The young man answered; "Yes, sir. My father attended to you yesterday". Lehtar liked both the loyal attitude of this medium-height, alert boy and the look in his blue eyes.

The young man added; "Mr. Governor, I know you. I know how fair you treat the people of the city.". (He had a though, strict and disciplined sense of justice).

"I don't like to be praised directly to my face, son. But I trust your sincerity"

He smiled, "you also have praised me now"

Mihca watched and enjoyed this conversation. But he did not want to make any comments. He got up from his armchair and took his place on the table.

"Young man, tell us, what is your name?" Lehtar said. His desire to chat with the young boy was obvious.

"My name is Difan, sir. My father and our helper work at night. Our cook and I serve from morning to evening. Is there anything else you want that I can take care of?"