He had walked for miles. And he didn't come across his road. It was a long walk. From dawn to dusk and from twilight to orange bright lights. He walked for miles. From south glaciers to northern peaks, from white sands to ebonite glory of land of dry grasses, from glorious brookes to unresolved oceans. He had been walking for miles. And more miles he intended. Simple journeys. Precarious pleasures. He wanted to see all these. He had visited lot of districts and saw small towns all across - far and wide, he made love to many and broke their hearts when he left. He wanted more. He wanted to be their god. He chased worship, he excelled in workmanship. Simple logic. Veracious game.
The discourteous supple membrane broke and hustled in fury, invading him with cellular debris; raging. He was infected and he continued to walk. And he intended to walk more miles..
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