Modravé De Costa Lopez is the name haunts the underground world, and the name that is engraved into the illegal system like a tattoo on an idiotic teenager. He runs one of the most powerful Mafia organisations known to man and is so powerful, he cou...
Here are my goals of 2018! : - finish this book! -finish my larry book called Instagram! -finish another 2 more books (don't know what ones yet) 🧐 -pass my A Levels (I want A* A B) -stop using as much plastic ‼️ -lose a few pounds (never happens lol) -be a better person. ____________________________
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Specs of dust trickle through the open light glancing out of the slit between the blinds in the dark and depressing room Cove resides in. The room is spacious, wooden with a tall dark oak wardrobe sat beside a walk-in closet towards the left of the room. The bed is an excessively large California king sized bed, adorned with soft Cotten sheets, a faux fur blanket and too-many-to-count pillows. A deep, blood red carpet sprawls across the cold oak floorboards, and the same coloured red curtains dress the huge Victorian windows.
The faint noise of the flatscreen playing a re-run of The Big Bang Theory is almost mocking as the audiences laughter rings out.
Cove hasn't seen anybody in days, nobody apart from the maids which take him food, drink and to the courtyard for some air. The courtyard is beautiful, a place which somebody obvious takes much pride in. The rosebushes line each side of the building, red, yellow, white and orange. Lavender bushes decorate the sides of the walk paths - light flecks of purple complementing the autumn sky. In a symmetrical pattern, on both sides of the courtyard, a beautifully arranged pattern of boxed bushes create a swirl before making its centre which lies a large blossom tree.
One of the maids, her name Clarence, told him that they were still in France, a small little village of manor houses. The houses once held royalty he heard. Funny - now they hold the mafia.
It's all very bitter sweet.
He appreciates what is around him, he appreciates what he is able to witness first hand - nothing he would see in Alberto State. Everything here feels so clean ... so fresh and pure. The air is so clear, as well as the skies until it dawns, then it's filled with radiant pinks, purples, yellows and oranges. He loves seeing the little deers that tread wearily into the courtyard, stealing the water from the bird ponds and sniffing the berry bushes that awkwardly fill empty spaces.
He hates the bedroom, he wishes he could live in the courtyard with the deers. He knows that must sound absurd but it's seems like paradise to him right now - being as careless and free as a deer.
He wonders what it would be like ... to be free, really free.
Just image it.
Being able to roam earth without trouble, nobody asking for a passport or calling you an immigrant. The earths land free for all, free for you to feast on all its resources .. being able to find friendship, love and peace.
