It was the seventh day of the month with 29 days. Mignon and his followers were trundling down the hill that day. The sky gods seemed angry. A distant flash and rumble warned them of the fury that was waiting for them. Mignon wondered out loud - "Are we climbing down or are we climbing up?". His followers wracked their brains for an answer. The harder they thought, the faster they descended the steep hill. No one paid any attention to the perils along the way. They just were grappling with the question. Finally when they reached the bottom of the hill, they were too tired to think about it. Let's ask great Mignon what he meant, they mumbled and went to sleep.
Looks like the fog just spared my window to the street. The street lights looked liking smokers in an alley. The cobble stones were wet from the drizzle. The street dogs were busy barking at something. A breeze just unsettled the garbage can's lid. My world hasn't changed much. Everyday I look for some sign of change. Nothing seems to change. I have grown bald. My eyesight has dimmed. My kids have grown. The window pane has gathered dust and dirt. The spiders have evolved. Some old buildings have given way to new ones. The neon signs have gone. Still nothing seem to have changed. Change they say has to come from within. But then, what can come out of an empty narrow dead end?
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