For all you might ask, it was not the truck. Neither did I commit myself to the valor of saving someone's life at the expense of my own. No. Also I was not a soldier. Not a mercenary nor a Yankee bent on hell's revenge. No. I was not stabbed, shot, burned, crushed, kidnapped nor drowned. No. No such extravagant happening played with my trifle life. And for God's sake it was not a suicide. No. Nothing good ever comes from a suicide. It was simple. It's always quite simple when an invisible hand twists and turns our fate inside out. There was no light at the dark tunnel. There were no voices in the dark. No pan-dimensional entities made request for the help of mine. No. There was nothing of such. For all I know, I was "there" and then I was "here". It was as simple as that.

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Cover Art by the amazing: Dayle Domingo