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“A man with a crow head makes sense?”
“With a dead son, it does.”
“He is MISSING. How many times do I have to tell you this?” Boone roared.
The rotary phone on their table rang. It was something which brought an abrupt halt to their argument. Stacy’s quietness made him realize who should pick up the call.
Boone almost pulled the wire of the phone while putting on his ear, “Who is this?” he didn’t hide how he was feeling.
“Boone. I have found your son.” The caller said.
“Let me hear his voice then.” Boone spoke, making sure Stacy would not hear it.
“I am here, father.” The voice came.
It was spot on.
Ian.…he gasped, “Where are you?”
The caller’s voice came thereafter, “You remember the woman’s house which has a blue door?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I am here with Ian.” Then he hung the call, “Come and take him.”
Boone dropped the receiver.
“What happened?” Stacy broke her silence.
“I am right.” He said and put on shoes.
“Where are you going now?” Stacy yelled at him.
“Towards something which makes sense.” He said then ran towards the road where he hired a cab and rode to the city.
The cab ride was the most anxious time of his life. During the entire ride, he was watching himself behave in the most abnormal way in the mirror. He had no shame in being awkward right now.
“Don’t stop. Keep going.” He barked at the driver.
“A passenger.” Cabbie looked back.
“I don’t want to share this cab with anyone. Tell that guy to s*** somewhere else.”
“You can get in, madam.” Driver said.
Before he could comprehend the happening, the same woman in the blue cloak opened the door and sat beside him.
“I knew you would not obey what I had told you.” She said.
“Get off this car!”
But the woman clapped. Engine stopped burning, and he felt himself stationary. In place of the tiny mirror, there was his wife’s oval mirror infront of him.
He was now on his couch all of a sudden. Boone felt scare bubbling upwards from his stomach acid. His mind had turned blank and his ears were ringing. Boone puked on his shoes when he saw himself reddened on the mirror.
“Stacy!” he screamed, with vomit still running down his lips.
He rushed down in horror, only to see her dead.
The woman was right.
Once again there was sorrow in his home. Beside Ian’s coffin, Stacy was buried while a big crowd gathered to see poor Boone lose another member of his family.
The night was hard for him. But it was not hard enough to take away his sleep. No matter how bad his days went, he always had found ways to find himself in REM stage. Perhaps he went into another stage of the dream this time because he saw a clock with the weirdest number he had ever seen.
“Does this time amuse you?” a voice came.
Boone flinched and turned around.
Crowman was there.
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