Russet lines were drawn across the horizon scrupulously, the breaking dawn mellowed the vision field. We were chatting in a desultory manner, ranging from the rigged politics to the star crossed lovers of Hollywood.

Hither the apex of a mountain in our rover, the tarred road was converged into a thin thread in front of me. I was keeping him company throughout the journey, shotgun at her epitome.

No road was too difficult for my man to surmount, his sinewy, aquiline features exuded a flamboyant complexion which was even more majestic than Mother Nature.

The rolling of the wheels stopped, curtly, almost instantaneously. Free fall was the first impression after the stale air of death. The rover skidded out of the mountain tracks, crashed unto the stone hard ground.

His grotesque figure was emblazoned in my mind, tortuous limbs, distorted face, bloodied body.

A nudge to my right sent me back into our dark, silent, secured room. He was beside me, snoring, as usual. It was too vivid. I grabbed him abruptly from his slumber, relishing upon his presence and his passionate love.

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