Mir

Mir walked slowly, every step sending a strained message to his brain. To stop. To lie down. To give it a rest. It had been a long day, like every other. Mir should relax.

The saner, wiser part of him argued vehemently against those pleas. If he stopped, he wouldn't be able to get back up. And then a kind villager would have to carry him to his shack. He wouldn't be able to bear that sort of humiliation again.

Connecting...

'Freud's Psychoanalysis', I scrawled on the magnificent ruled paper, and paused to allow myself a moment of self-pity. The scrawl looked incredibly ugly on the white sheet, and I almost convinced myself that I shouldn't study. Freud frowned up at me.

The reason behind the 'almost' was the dishevelled creature in front of me, who snapped ferociously if any one of us so much as yawned. Zeenat(as her name suggested, albeit in a different sense altogether), was someone to be handled with care.