...12:30 am and i was still alert with Heramn Hesse's Siddhartha. Right after i turned to page ninety four, i felt a sudden sting in my eyes. I wasn't sleepy at all but i put the book aside and decided to give it a rest. Perhaps it was the traffic or the drunkards clamorously cursing at each other for sleep did not come. I strained my ears to imagine the life outside my apartment and heard a boy laugh with such high spirit that his voice took me back to the days when i laughed with my brother. Then the thought of death unexpectedly crossed over. My brother is very much alive but somehow i was convinced he had long left me. Tears forced its way out and flowed onto the pillow. I grieved, for i believed i would never see him again.
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