Behold, a man with a touch of cosmos in his gaze. An alien form, much like a thought ripped from its context and carried by the wind. Until it lands here.


    He returned to a place that exists no more. They say he went mad. Fumbling, he searches for a path.


    "Madman, fool!"


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    The departed beckon him deeper, where once lilies and orchids grew.


    Then he realizes he still fears the faces of the soot-stained saints, their penetrating eyes, afraid they will unveil his entire future.


    "I wish to seize the moment before time licks every dream from my eyelids! I must look the world in the eyes and then discover I am not from here."


    People sometimes lose themselves in the crowd, and it becomes challenging to find the best among them.