“Take a long walk away from home. Take a walk along the seas, listen to the heartbeat of the waves of the oceans, listen to the cries of freedom from the shores,
listen to the praises of the creatures scattered across the lines of the freedom, the likes of them , big, small, large, little, healthy and not, tall and not, done for or still living,
breath in life from the wind, let your ears be merried with the pleasurable tune of the birds of the sky, so that, orgasm won't be far from reach,
let your soul receive it, let it moan in pleasure, and let your Spirit rejoice in freedom, for today has been good, the 'morrow surely shall arrive, and with infants with it, to cause trouble, grief or sorrow, pain or affliction,
but ye listen, remember Today, today along the sea, remember the pleasure across the shores, hold on it, for the 'morrow that cometh with infants of destruction will be consumed by the happiness,
freedom, joy, love and peace that your soul and spirit hath received and orgasmed to, hold on to this, for this is isn't your remedy but your maybe, your testament.
But remember, in all, that faith in the son of man maketh life easier than fantasy and fiction.``
      "What's that?" 
      "I loved to read and right, when I was human…" 
      "What does it mean?" 
      "One word could have a thousand meanings, and if you really care about the words, the meanings will be declared to you. But you can take this, for now: You can forget about your problems today, you can clear your head today, feel alive and great, but tomorrow will come, your problems will still be there, waiting for you…" 
     "But?" 
     "But, faith in the son of man maketh life easier than fantasy and fiction. Do you believe that life it's just a cycle of fortunate and unfortunate occurrences repeating itself? Because I…" he stood up with a glass of whiskey in his hand, and his eyes away from the interior to the exterior of the glass house. 
    "Believe that life can be easy, with no struggles, less or no loss, no pain, no sorrow. Even easier than fiction. You know, fiction's easy seems out of the ordinary, like something that's only possible with and in our imagination…" 
     "Isn't it?"
     "A great man once said; our imagination is stronger than knowledge. And that answers your question, not if you believe" 
    "Do you believe?" 
    "Yes. But unfortunately, I fear that something's coming…" 
    "Logan, it's been a month since the prison break. What are you not telling me?" 
    "Nothing to worry about, it's something that I need to deal with—" 
    "Hey, sorry. I finished the drink…" 
    Logan and Camila turned around to see Russ with two empty bottles of wine. 
     Logan looked at the glass cup in his hand, the drink had only to the brim to be finished, with the look on his face, it was obvious that he was confused. 
    "How did we finish an entire cellar in one month?" He asked, looking at Camila, who chuckled with a shrug, and Russ, who sat down eyeing his empty bottles, yearning to be quenched for taste. 
    "Your boys knows how to drink" Russ commented with a mild laughter. 
    Logan looked outside to three sports cars, two military grade vehicles and about a dozen armed men who lurked around with their guns. "Like I need body guards" he sighed. 
    "Why are they still here though?" Camila asked Logan. 
    "They wouldn't leave…" Logan said with a decline to a single chair, but his drink never declined. 
    "Then make them leave…" Camila suggested. 
    "Why's it so important to you that they leave?" 
   Camila went mute for a moment, then took up the podium again, looking into Logan's eyes this time, like it needed to be inserted into his mind and heart. 
    "Because I don't want within, or anyone taking you away from me, again" then she removed her eyes and barged inside. 
     "You should go talk to her" Russ suggested. 
     "I don't know what to tell her" Logan muttered. 
      "What are you planning on doing?"
     "He wouldn't tell me either…" Camila interrupted. She came back leaning against a pillar in the sitting room. 
     "I'm not planning anything" Logan replied to both of them. 
     "Well, we have been in peace and tension for the last one Month. My aunt is nowhere to be found, and your cartel wouldn't leave, and everything it's just—" 
    "Too good to be true?" Russ said. 
    "More like, something's coming, more dangerous and terrible than before." 
    "Count me lucky, my dear. I spent the last twenty years in prison, this is my first month of freedom, I guess I don't have to feel like the worst is about to happen…hahaha" 
    "True. Tell me…" Logan turned to Russ. "You had a little story back there. Camila told me, about your brother?"
     "Yes…" he dropped the bottles and his face weighted, like he had been reminded of his great, internal and everlasting pain. 
     "It's- it's okay if you don't want to talk about it…" 
    "No, I think it's time I make peace with the fact that he died several years ago, I'm sure he's in a good place now…" 
     Camila walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. "I can't say I know how you're feeling right now, but I'm sorry. And I'm certain that he would want you to move on with your life, be happy. It's not too late to start living again…" 
    Russ smiled, faintly. "Thank you" 
   Logan stood up and went to a kind of cabin locker. He unlocked it with a key and a code. In anticipation to see what he had locked with two tight security protocols, he brought out a bottle of 1774 Vercel “Vin Jaune d'Arbois
    Camila chuckled. "Are you kidding me?" 
    Logan smiled, brought It to the table, and said a few words before he opened it. "I had kept a bunch of these for special days, but I guess, there's no such thing as a special day. Any day and everyday is what you make of it…" the cork was removed, painting his face with a smile, which would soon wash out by the waters of guilt. 
    "You know, when the C.I.A said that he went missing, I wondered why, and after after a few years, it was obvious. He had an assignment in Cuba, so they must had buried him in an island…" 
    "He was an agent? What was his name? We shall drink to him…" Logan said, already drowning out, and with the look on Camila's face to him, he hoped it wouldn't come to his guess.
    "His name was Twain, Twain Russ"