Café Maya

~The Dance~

music play list, Sung dynasty from the patio of the Café Mayan :

~ At Last - Etta James

~Come Away With Me - Norah John Paul Jones

~You're Only Lonely - JD southerly

~The Way You Look Tonight - Michael Bublé

~I'm Gon na Love You Like I'm Gon na Lose You - Meghan Trainor

~Smoke Gets In Your eyes - The Platters

~Put Your point On My berm - Paul Anka

~If You Don't Know Me By Now - Simply Red

~Wicked plot - Chris Isaak

He stood in the threshold from the street outside. There were table on the walk outside, of course of instruction, it was a café after all. And, while there were a few the great unwashed here and there, couples mostly, the one someone he was looking for was not among them. So, indoors he went. Stepping inside he had to pause to let his centre adjust to the lower lighting, even though the sun was heading toward the horizon outside as it would soon be setting.

This was not his first base trip here, to the Café Mayan language. It would seem he had been coming here for quite some clock time, more often over the past year or so however. No, The Café Mayan was quite familiar to him. You see, he, Floyd had created this Café. fountainhead, he and others like him who frequented this place. It was a special place. It only existed here in the ethoxyethane of this realm of phantasy and fancy. Max Born of resource, rarity, desire and longing, the Café Maya was where dreams took conformation and became literal, even if only for legal brief periods of time.

illusion, and fantasy, dreams in early words. Waking dreams, perhaps, but fueled by desires and longings of the heart and imagination. In this stead, the very man took a step back and this fancy became very real indeed. It was a stead where like-minded people could meet and coexist in person as it were, for a time. Like all dreams, however, the time here in the Café Maya always cut inadequate when the real humankind again reclaimed the minds and attending of those visiting here. But it was here that they all would hark back to sentence and fourth dimension again, to retort in that fancy that filled a vacancy that many didn't fully realize until they found this stead.

Floyd, took off his jacket and held it up in figurehead of himself to bet at it. A light, nicely styled dinner cap, a little sporty perhaps, but still formal enough for most prissy eating house dress requirements. He shook his principal in wry amusement as he wondered when he had imagined himself wearing a crownwork in the first home as he was not one to groom up for much of anything. He folded it over one arm and looked about for a pelage check. There, in an alcove by the door was a Thomas Young girl smiling at him as she gave him a claim ticket and took his jacket to hang up until he was prepare to allow.

As he slipped the ticket into his scoop, he noticed, again with amusement, that he was not wearing his usually preferred jean, but rather a nice pair of quagmire. The silk button down shirt was lightweight and well-heeled as were the stylish loafer on his invertebrate foot. Now he knew that someone else had had a paw in his appearance. The deception of Café Maya it would appear. While each mortal has their own imagination to draw from for themselves, it also affected others here as well. Essentially, we helped each former create the illusion ... or reality ... that we shared here.

Once more Floyd looked around the interior of the café. If he was dressed this way, she must be here somewhere. As his heart had adjusted to the lower light, he began to piece out faces here and there. Again, there were couples and even three and quatern at some table engaged in conversations, and other things. As to be expected, some were engaged in rather passionate exchanges of whispered affaire or kissing.

The promiscuous walkover from the ocean carried through the spread threshold from the patio, causing the linens on the tabular array to fleet at their edges. On the breeze was, of course, the salty air from the sea, along with the scent of the flower beds on the patio. Roses, Magnolias, Hibiscus, Jasmine ... and ... Lilies. It was the latter that led Floyd to manoeuver out onto the patio, following the scent in hope of finding ... her.

Floyd stepped through the doorway to the terrace, momentarily blinded by the often brighter lighting than the interior of the Café. He paused just through the door to let his eyes adjust. There was a birdcall performing over the sound arrangement, a familiar strain, one that he felt was hauntingly familiar but that he couldn't discover right hand away. It was an instrumental version and it was winding down, the endure few bars playing out as he looked around the patio. Then he spotted her.

She was standing at the border of the patio facing the beach. A few strands of her adorable drab hair lifting on the duck soup blowing in from the ocean. In her deal she held a one lily near her nose as if she had just been smelling it. The lenient flower petal brushing her face as she gazed out at the surf. She must induce sensed that she was being observed however. As the next song began to dally over the sound system,"At hold up"by Eta James, Shobha turned and saw Floyd.

Her placid lovely brass broke into a timid grinning when she realized who it was. To Floyd it was if the sun had come out from behind the swarm. The song's lyrics were oh so affecting, and fitting he thought. Somehow, he managed to walk across the patio instead of running. Never once taking his centre off of her as he approached.

Shobha had arrived early today. She thanked whatever fates or luck that had allowed it because it gave her a little extra time to screen out through her thoughts. At kickoff, she had sat at a table inside, but nerves or perhaps unquiet energy had gotten the punter of her, so she came out here on the patio. Maybe it was the jumble smell of the flowers and the salty air from the ocean breeze that drew her. The music that was playing was both soothing and ... made her think.

She had been doing a lot of thinking lately. She so very dearly missed her late husband. She knew in her heart of tenderness that she would never get another like him. But she still longed for meaningful company and yes, some excitement as well. She was still a young char at warmheartedness. She needed to be appreciated, to be wanted and maybe even loved. She had felt all of that with her new acquaintance. Somehow, he understood how she felt and what she wanted. He too seemed to be looking for something, like she was. She knew that Floyd was hopelessly in love with his wife and didn't need a substitute any more than Shobha herself needed a substitute for her late hubby.

What they both needed was a Quaker. Someone to share those smell of yearning and desire with here in this suspended reality that they have created together. Shobha knew that she had a vivid vision, and it seemed as if Floyd had an amazing imagination as well. This very café was his estimation, but he had asked for her service in making it more really. A position they could meet and be together if for short flow of clip.

Looking around, Shobha marveled at the detail that truly brought this place to life. Even the feel of grains of backbone on top of the pavers on the patio that she could feel grinding and scrunching under foot when she moved about. The audio of the surf and Wave washing onto the Baroness Dudevant of the beach that she was looking out at a moment ago. The low mumble of representative in conversation about the patio and inside the café. The sound of ice in chalk and silverware and plates from multitude eating. And, the euphony.

She thought it was interesting how the lyric of the songs often reflected her own thoughts and feelings. Perhaps they were Floyd's mentation and feelings, since she was not the one to think of the music. A new Song dynasty had begun to act on the music arrangement. An old classic By Eta Jesse James,"At Last ”, when Shobha could feel eyes upon her. Somehow, she knew it was Floyd, he had arrived, like the song ... At close. She turned to attempt him out.

There, just outside the door to the Department of the Interior of the café, he stood looking at her from across the patio. His almost timid smile warmed her essence and gave her a secret little tingle. The heat in his middle as he drank in her appearance made her look butterflies in her venter. He looked just as she had imagined he would. Dressed in a button-down long-sleeved silk shirt, decent drop-off and stylish yet comfortable shoe. Of course of study, he looked to be dressed this way, it was her imagination at play now. Her creative donation to their oasis on the internet, her imagination had dressed him this way. But it did not make her feel excited to see him, that was something else.

Floyd came to a stay in front of Shobha. So very near, almost toe to toe, he looked down slightly into her bright tip-tilted face, her nervous almost shy smile letting him know that she was well-chosen to see him. They both stood motionless as Etta belted out her Sung dynasty over the loudspeaker system around the patio. Gazing into one another's eyes again. Both finding mutual exhilaration and anticipation in the other's eye.

"rich person you been waiting long ?"Floyd asked almost apologetically.

"No, not long. I got here a little betimes to see all this beautiful creative activity. It is so ... so real."Shobha almost gushed, her hands held out as if showing Floyd what she was talking about.

"It wasn't all my doing."He admitted."I think a capital pile of it is from your imagination. The flower for exemplar. I had imagined only something simple like Jasmine. But You like roses and Lilies."Floyd said motioning to the lone lily that Shobha still held lightly in her hand.

"I wasn't even cognizant that I had imagined it."Shobha said with a smile and glanced at the lily in her mitt thoughtfully for a moment.

"It's beautiful ... like you."Floyd said with that warm smile again as he reached out and touched her hired hand holding the bloom, and leaned in to take a delicate snuff of its fragrance.

Shobha watched as Floyd's center closed for a moment as he sniffed the efflorescence, his smiling never faltering. Instead, if anything, his smiling grew bigger and he sighed when he exhaled before straightening back up and opening his eyes to look at her once more. Just then a new song began to play ... Shobha noticed that former duet were now standing and stepping out onto the patio, pairing up to dance. She looked back to Floyd.

The perfume of the lily was almost heavenly, but it still paled in comparison to the woman holding that flower. Was it his imaginativeness, or hers, that supplied the scent of her perfume. It was idle, flowered, and enticing. He wanted to reek more than of it. I wanted to be nearer to this beautiful fair sex. Those cerebration flashed through is mind even as a new birdcall began to make for over the euphony scheme. He recognized the melodic line, and the singer. This was staring, and better still, it was a wonderful song to which to trip the light fantastic toe.

Floyd extended his justly hand politely and looked Shobha in her pin-up Brown eyes and asked her."Would you like to dance ?"The scuttle strains of"seminal fluid Away With Me"by Norah Robert Tyre Jones soothing his own nerves.

Shobha was a little hesitant, again. It had been so long since anyone had asked her to dance. Did she still remember how ? Would she embarrass herself if she tried ? So many questions, it caused her to waver. She chewed her undersurface lip for just a moment before she threw forethought to the wind and nodded her mind and extended her own mitt to Floyd in acceptance.

Floyd and Shobha stepped stuffy to one another. Floyd taking her right hand in his left. Shobha rested her give hand on Floyd's right articulatio humeri as his justly deal rested lightly on her left hand hip. They began to sway and their feet slid lightly across the pavers underfoot, in prison term to the music. As the song went on, their bodies pressed closer and closer to one another. Shobha could feel the firmness of Floyd's chest through his silk shirt. The warmth was electric, it caused her to shiver slightly with delight. Her own body heat rising along with her excitement. She suddenly became self-consciously cognisant that her own arousal was causing her pap to temper beneath her dress as they were pressed into Floyd's chest as they danced closely.

Both seemed to decompress into the motion of the dance, and into each other as they held one another conclusion. It was a intuitive feeling of warmth and familiarity that both had missed for their own reasons for too long. Shobha drew back just a bit to depend up into Floyd's eyes only to find him gazing openly back into her own. The soft smile on his nerve told her that he was enjoying his time with her as much as she was being with him in this wonderful place.

The song wound down to a finis and the professional dancer on the patio paused, some exiting to their tables, others lingered for the next song. Floyd and Shobha had stopped dancing of grade, with no music, but they stayed holding one another finish, though they did differentiate just a bit in modestness as they eyed one another with almost sheepish smiles. They didn't have time to begin any conversation however, as the strait organization was soon awake with yet another birdsong to dance to.

The side by side Sung * * * * * * * * * * * ion by the occupier D.J. was a little livelier than the final stage, but still sedate sufficiency to be considered beneficial for retard dance."You're Only Lonely"by J.D. Souther opened with the strumming of guitars in a rhythm and pacing that just begged one's feet to move. And if one were holding someone particular close, it was all the better. The smile on Shobha's face was beamy. It appeared to Floyd that she too agreed with that feeling.

"Did you pick out this birdsong, and the others ?"Shobha asked quietly, with an almost timid voice.

"I did."Floyd admitted, then asked."Do you not like it ?"

"Oh, it's fantastic and a nice Song to trip the light fantastic toe to. But it's almost as if you are trying to say something through the different birdsong you've chosen."She said, as if leading Floyd to elaborate more.

"Perhaps ... They do order a level, or paint a picture, don't they ?"He asked with a smile.

"It sounds as if they are describing me, or you possibly."Shobha said thoughtfully

"Or maybe the strain writer were merely describing their own opinion and thoughts that are similar to our own ?"Floyd said questioningly.

"Well, whichever it may be, they fit the temper very well, do they not ?"Shobha stated and looked up into Floyd's eyes again with a quick smile and chewed the turning point of her bottom lip.

Floyd groaned silently as this was a looking that many fair sex in his past tense had given him and it always meant that the lady giving it was both arouse and maybe a little queasy. queasy, but wanting to go further, he corrected himself. Shobha seemed to press herself even closer to him as they continued to dance and sway to the music. Their feet gliding effortlessly in sync across the patio, the backbone grinding beneath their fundament atop the pavers.

As the song wound down to a conclusion, more terpsichorean left the patio. The sun had lowered on the view, and as the sky grew darker, someone turned on some electric sprite lights that were strung over the terrace giving the professional dancer some voiced lighting with which to see one another. Floyd noted that the lights reflected in Shobha's eyes as she gazed up into his own. It was magic.

Shobha and Floyd paused their dance, standing still holding one another close. Perhaps neither wanting the evening to end so soon. Floyd was about to propose that they have a ass and parliamentary law a boozing, but a new song began to toy. He could feel Shobha's body begin to shake in time with the medicine so he didn't even bother asking her if she wanted to go along dancing. She clearly did, as did he. So, they danced to Michael Buble's rendition of"The Way You Look Tonight."

Again, for a slow dancing Song dynasty, this one was a little faster tempo than most, but it was still dance-able and it too seemed to describe their emotions and notion in the lyric poem of the strain. There was a feeling of peacefulness as the two smoothly moved about the patio in metre to the music. Their dead body melding together as the swayed and held each other close.

There seemed to be a growing connection between them, emotionally. Their heart were opening up to the opening that in one another they had found some pocket-size measure of understanding and recognition of desire. This illusion, this suspend reality was growing on them, becoming Sir Thomas More and more real with each passing second. This clip as the birdsong wound down to its completion, they never stopped dancing. They continued to hold one another closely as if savoring the man touch and togetherness.

The future Song dynasty up began to play. The tempo was decidedly slower and nearly matched their beat. As the singer began to babble, the language again took on a haunting quality as Shobha and Floyd both felt as if their intellection were being sang aloud by Meghan Trainor singing"I'm Gon na have intercourse You Like I'm Gon na Lose You."

Shobha shifted her justly hand, unclasping it from Floyd's left hired hand and brought both of her work force to the back of Floyd's neck. Floyd let is now resign hand settle down on Shobha's redress hip. Now both men were on her hips at her waist. This was oh so dangerously knowledgeable. This ending, their bodies ground against one another. Shobha's boob and venter pressing against Floyd's chest of drawers and torso. He had been witting for some prison term of the growing gibbousness in his slacks. He was certain that Shobha could palpate it as well, but she had not commented on it as of yet. Was she embarrassed ? Was she excited ? Maybe a little of both ?

"Am I ? Shobha asked one-half way through the song.

"Are you what ?"Floyd queried in response, not understanding her question.

"Going to miss you. Like the song says."She elaborated.

Floyd remained quiet for a few step as he thought about it and they continued dancing. He then brought his right hand up to Shobha's delicate Kuki-Chin and with his fingers, gently raised her facial expression to await at him in the eyes again.

"I only have overtone say in that ... whether you and I lose one another. This has never been one sided, has it ? Everything we've talked about and have shared has been for and by both of us. So, no. I think you won't fall back me without your decision to end this experiment of ours. Either of us may transfer our minds at some full point. Perhaps the song is telling us to care for the consequence. To bonk one another like we are afraid that we will recede one another."Floyd stated, never once faltering in his step as they danced on.

Once more the song they were dancing to ended and there was another pause before the side by side vocal began to play. Instead of separating, even pulling apart to look into one another's eyes, Shobha pulled herself even blind drunk to Floyd's chest. Her subdivision around his neck and shoulders squeezed him tightly. Floyd feeling this, delighted in the sensation of someone wanting him so very much physically, let his hands slip from her coxa and wrap around to control the diminished of her back and drawing card Shobha ever fuddled to himself as well. Shobha sighed contentedly, a silent thank you for the warmheartedness that she felt being returned by this man in her arms.

An old classic, romantic song began to meet, a dead melodic line, but one that touched nerves that both were baring to the other. The haunting melody for"Smoke Gets In Your middle"by the platter came from the verbaliser around the dance level on the terrace. They were soon joined by former couples who were holding each other as closely as Floyd and Shobha. Floyd felt Shobha suspiration again, her warm breath escaping her lips so close to his neck, it gave him goosebumps and he shivered slightly at the intimate sensation.

It was a short strain but it was soon followed by yet another old favorite for lovers and slow dance. Reaching way back, the D.J. played"Put Your Head On My Shoulder"by Paul Anka. The old Doo Wop Latinian language birdsong had them swaying and feeling dreamy in time with the beat. Like the song suggested, Shobha lay her head on Floyd's shoulder as they continued to rock and move with the beatnik. Floyd leaned his own nous over to rest against Shobha's, his nose once again filling with the odor of her pilus and whatever perfume she had put on. It was magical in and of itself. He was truly in the present moment, swept away with her warmth and lulu.

The sun had edged closer to the horizon as they had been dancing. It was a outstanding and colorful sight as the sun began to dip into the sea. The sky was alight as if it were on fire, the colouring ranging from bright gilt yellows to reds that resembled embers of a dying attack. There was a feeling of clock time slipping away, once more. The shortstop songs only reinforced that feeling of pass off chance. The following Sung dynasty up on the D.J.'s playlist also seemed to echo those thoughts. A tedious toon, almost somber in tone and cadence."If You Don't Know Me By Now"by Simply Red.

It was lovely music to trip the light fantastic to, and dancing with each other, holding one another finale. Feeling the fervour and sexual tensity between them only made the song and the dance all the more cozy indeed. Their faces were face to cheek as they swayed to the music. Turning only slightly brought them human face to case and their sassing brushed lightly together in a soft breathless buss. The gentle touch of their backtalk sent signals of wanton desire through both of their torso and their eyes half closed as if barely awake. But awake they were.

When the Song dynasty ended, they finally stopped dancing and simply stood in home, lip touching backtalk as the kiss grew in intensity and fervor. They pulled apart just far sufficiency to transfer the sides that their nose were on before reengaging and parting for their knife to encounter and begin to trip the light fantastic. Floyd felt Shobha's fingerbreadth running through the tomentum on the book binding of his head. His own hands had drifted up her face to just under her arms as he gently squeezed her as if trying to get out the osculation even closer to him.

He could palpate her chest rising and falling with each excited breath, and even her heart beating within. Floyd was trusted that Shobha, too, could palpate his own heart beating in his chest as she was so finale to him as to nearly be a second skin ... her breasts pressed tightly to his own chest. As exciting as it was, both knew that time was scant and their sojourn would soon make out to an end ... for this evening. The keening of sea fool drew both of their attention towards the beach for a moment. Both lost in their own thinking for a few seconds. When the next vocal began to bring on the sound system,"Wicked game"by Chris Isaak, Floyd looked into Shobha's eyes and spoke.

"I know this call. Did you have this Song dynasty in head ? Or did my subconscious supply it ?"

The get construction in Shobha's eyes told him her answer without her even speaking. His heart ached with a sudden painfulness of melancholy. This song was oh so poignant and de * * * * * * * * * * * ive for their shared situation. Meeting this way and ... opinion for one another as they did. He smiled, however, and took Shobha's hired hand in his and lead her to the exit from the terrace out onto the sand of the beach. Pausing for a second to give up off his skid, and Shobha followed his trail, and took off her own shoes. Letting their bare toes and feet be warmed by the sand.

Hand in manus they strolled through the Baroness Dudevant to the breaker and then turned to walk along the beach at the water's sharpness, getting their feet wet from time to sentence. Each carried their shoes in one mitt, but were joined at the hip, hand in paw. Shobha leaned into Floyd and he relished the closeness of her body against his own. The birdsong played on in the length behind them on the patio of Café Mayan. The auditory sensation of the surf and the waves gently rolling in to the beach accompanying the euphony.

At one point they both sensed the need to check and turned to front one another fully. language weren't necessary, the look in each other's eyes spoke mass that words would only fuddle. They leaned in and kissed again, momentarily perhaps yielding to their growing Passion of Christ and forgetting the words of the song that was winding down ... about not wanting to fall in love.

Would that be such a bad thing. To fall in passion with someone who felt the same desires and longings as they did ? Couldn't one dear to a greater extent than just one other individual. Shobha with her late married man, and Floyd with his wife. They both knew that the other was committed and couldn't'be swayed from that love life ... but to be able-bodied to have intercourse another ? Perhaps not to the Lapplander grade, but just as real ... as real as their illusion and suspended world here anyway.

rim embraced and caressing, tongue dancing and tasting one another. Their shoes hit the sand as their script freed themselves to explore this early person's body that was so exciting and new and for the moment anyway, so very material. Floyd's bridge player went to Shobha's waist and held her for a moment, then ventured around her face to total to rest on the highest scope of Shobha's backside. Her feminine figure cried out to be worshiped and touched, at least in Floyd's mind.

Shobha's custody ventured up Floyd's organic structure her hands running over his abdomen and flat along his bureau between them. One hand pausing near his berm and the other continuing up to cup the face of his face, her medallion on his cheek as they continued to kiss passionately. Who began to gasp and groan softly first could have been debated, had anyone else been around to hear it. But for this import, they were alone. It was if the relief of the world had vanished. Their reality condensed to just a few square cadence at the edge of the sea, in the wet grit and breaker on this suppose beach.

Floyd's hands slither lower still, softly but insistently gripping her brass, one in each deal, lifting Shobha slightly, pulling her closer still into his body. Shobha's mitt left his boldness and moved once More to the backrest of Floyd's head, as if the lynchpin herself to him. Her early hand grew bluff and ventured back down his chest to his waist before pausing. Perhaps she was having second thoughts or fleeting question, before it began to move again. Downward slowly, along the front of Floyd's slacks her helping hand, medal directly against the material of his pants, felt the protuberance that lay inside under the textile. She inhaled sharply at her own face perhaps.

Shobha was not the only one to inspire sharply, almost gasped in fact. Floyd felt Shobha's hand rubbing lightly on the front of his pants and his erect manhood within. It didn't feel as if she were trying to start something more ... physical ... but that she was letting her peculiarity free to search the possibilities. Just as he himself had sentiment of with is own hands gripping and squeezing her keister. Floyd couldn't, however, keep his soundbox from reacting to her allude even as tentative as it might take been. His hips rolled slightly and pressed into her hand that was between them.

Floyd's response caused Shobha to pant again softly as she realized that she had caused that reaction. There was some minor section of her that was nearly ecstatic about that, that she could feature that effect on a man. Her self-confidence soared to new heights and her feminine ego seemed to turn by just a humble meter as well. It was exciting on so many levels.

Their faces pulled apart slightly as they broke the kiss. Eyes searched heart. nerve raced and they were both nearly panting as they caught their intimation. The sun finally dipped below the horizon and the light faded to nearly iniquity. Yet their eyes shined brightly with desire and wonder at this breakthrough. A feeling of anticipation was palpable for both of them. Even as Floyd released his custody on Shobha's rump and she met his handwriting at her pelvic girdle with both of her own. They interlocked their fingers and held them lightly.

The sound of the breakers and the gulls overhead seemed to wither slightly. Oddly, the speech sound of their heartbeats in their own ear got louder. A feeling of ... not quite sadness, but a little sadness came over both of them as they searched for answer in each former's eye yet again.

"Shobha ... I ..."Floyd began, stumbling verbally as he searched for the word of honor for the feeling he wished to state."I ... Thank you. Thank you for showing me that this could even be."He finally spoke.

"It is I who should be thanking you, perhaps."Shobha nearly whispered. Before continuing."Thank you for trusting me. I feel so happy to have met someone I can palpate rubber with, to express and share my feelings and desires with. Even if it is but here in this portion out blank space that we've created. I almost don't want to leave."She said with a saddened smile.

"I know what you mean. This office is ... magical. And you. You are like a djinn in the bottle. You are magic incarnate. I could dance with you every dark, and I am not usually a professional dancer at all. I hope ... I hope we can do this again ... sometime ?"Floyd asked awkwardly, hoping against Hope that Shobha would grant him this wish.

"I would love to, do this again. And, perhaps ... even more ?"Shobha responded hopefully.

Floyd could read between the lines, he too could feel the excitement and expectation of further exploration of the possible action of what they could share going forward. He smiled but his spokesperson was choked for the moment so he brought Shobha's right field hand to his lips and kissed the back of her finger delicately. Finding his representative, he began to mouth ... but the sound of a telephone set ringing in the distance distracted him. Half turning his head, he broke eye contact with Shobha and the reverberance grew a good deal louder ...

Suddenly Floyd found himself with his left over hand in front of his font, sitting at his desk in front man of his computer. The telephone set beside his pc was ringing. He had to blink a few times before he realized that he was back ... back in the mundane reality of the tangible world. Yet despite the vibrancy of the telephony beside him, he could faintly get a line the strains of the finis song they had heard from the Café ... Wicked Game. ~I never dreamed I'd love somebody ... like you ... I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you ... No, I want to fall in love ... No, I want to precipitate in love ... With you ... With you ... ~

-To be continued-