I just continue to write . soon the mirror grows distant as you move closer still until your foot could streach out and touch My chair. I get up as yo... look into the mirror and stand before My chair My back to the fire , as you look into the mirror you see Me point to the position before the chair in the mirror. I sit back down pick up the notebook and start to write.You move backward toward the position and feel the rug graze your feet as they come in contact. This tiny insignificant touch. I was expecting my mother to meet me there, because it was workday and she was the only one with no job, that’s why I was surprised when my father was waiting for me at the bus station. From curiosity I asked him why, mother isn’t here and he answered that she had an appointment for masseur.This was the last drop in the cup…a masseur is more important than your own son…I was filled with confidence and determined to execute my plan.We came home and my father went back to work at the shop, while. More

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