A Whisper of Reality

He was addicted to the gap between the two worlds, and no one could hear the whispers in his ears. Reality is his prison and fantasy is his battlefield. What he lost became his only weapon; what he fantasized about turned into the most deadly reality. When the thirty-six destiny fell on him, only the "preface" that should not exist sang quietly in the ruins of his soul. Is this an elegy for him, or a funeral prelude to the world?