'Hello, the house.' I was proud of that. Someone told me once it was what country folk said when they visited. There was no reply, and I called again....'Hello, the house.' Silence. I shrugged to myself. Might as well wait on the porch. There was a rocker there that looked as if it had seen some use. I put my foot on the first step, then my head started buzzing and everything went black.I was prone, and the gentle rasp of soft wool was caressing my body. I tried to sit up, but it was as if I was. So he decided to start his experiment, in his own way.At this moment, it’s relevant to say that he’s a Sri Lankan, so he went to the nearest cemetery, which was A few townships away from where he lived.He met with the watcher and told him his idea. The watcher didn’t believe him at first, but later allowed him to stay in the cemetery, under his watch.That night, with his book and his pen, Qamar was waiting, ready for the unthinkable to happen.He once looked back at the watcher to see he’s long. More

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