Chapter 207 Ch Two Hundred And Seven

• It had been so long since he sat open in the serenity and basked in its beauty, that he had even forgotten how to do that. He had forgotten how it felt to sit comfortably in the repose of his mind, without having to think of anything at that moment.
• The sounds of rustling leaves, the distanced chirping of birds, the beauty of flying fireflies, the buzzing of distant insects, and the humming of a cold evening breeze all created a beautiful backdrop that seemed to catch Malcolm's attention, as he sat back on the reclining chair in his garden, his right hand wrapped around a half-empty glass that contained the scotch whiskey he was drinking.
• As he stared at the swaying of the beautiful flowers in his garden, with their branches fluttering with soothing sounds, he wished he had heard sooner. It had taken him years to sit in this peace, and finally understand the bondage he had been plunged into.