" The moon hung over the planet Earth, a dead thing over a dying thing." _John Fowles. . . . The three grey dots keep blinking...running... sometimes you catch them there, when they are blinking; but some 'most of the times' you don't know that they keep on trailing and running and blinking when the night turns to day... hoping you are still asleep away; pretending those words weren't for you; but typing , vigorously to frame a skeleton of a perfect picture... But nope...you won't know...'you' won't know..how many times people type out their emotions, expectations, empathy because they can't keep it in...in their mind and heart...and how many more times they backspace their regrets, regards, reassurance because they can't bring it out...out on a blank feeling less text. Some confessions, cryings, cravings find their fate getting erased by a backspace...but some..few... words, wishes, wondering, wantings gain courage, and enough Le...