Every single strand and concealed sliver of vibrant, pigment-rich hair exuded a ruthless monopoly of white colors. Yet, each strand was meticulously in place due to the morning ritual involving combing and hair gel. Despite the unwanted onslaught of time's passage, the former Detective sat confidently before me. His tale unfolded, recounting one of the most horrific and repulsive stories my ears had ever witnessed.

I am very nostalgic, primarily for nostalgia that illicit good. I gravitate toward what’s pure and innocent, but that’s rare nowadays and far apart.