This is a novel fixated on a protagonist who desperate yeans for love. however, due to the fact that he struggles with expressing his sentiments, he finds it fit to create an alternate reality where he is in control.

1. Desperate to connect.
Baah baah, wasall he everheard by the break of dawn.The raise in temperature,every shift of every
wind that blew open the windows of his room, the constant “ baah baah” sounds he heard, each
“baah” sound that followed the other precisely after 5 seconds, distorted the vivid image of his
fantasy. Fighting to maintain his composure, even when distracted, no, rather irritated by these
sounds, sucked him into a hole of a whole new altered reality; a reality where...........
So it begins....
It’s a sunny day bright as the crystal river, what makes it worse is the sight of Jenny, Oh how tenderwas her
voice as she uttered out the words “Duke, how are you today?” After all, we were work mates. She sat six
tablesawayfrom me, butI swear, herfragrance hit me from where I sat. She lookedstunning, beautifulas one

2. would say and I liked her, I swear I did. However,despite these secrete affectionsI could not portray, I still
followed and helped her even when unnecessary. You see, the secret with Jenny is that she had the ability to
make one tremble, loose composure,I meanwhen she spoke with you all u couldfeel was utterastonishment,
how can someone so elegant and angelic take the time to grace me with their attention. I guess that’s the
feeling u get when someone you’ve fancied for long gains proximity and indulgesin a conversation,well it’s
usually just a “Greet n Pass” but those few seconds of utterance, in my mind are played over and over. All
other sensations are turned off, giving me the focus, the only focus I need. The funny thing aboutthis whole
endeavorwe’ve been forced to endure and embark on, is that it brings mystery and enlightenment,I’ve come
to believethatas we forge throughall the channelsof life we tend to discoverboth the contrary spheresof this
world:the repugnantside and the blissful side. We are eithercondemnedto one of each. How we maneuver
our way through what’s intended, is the weighing scale that suggests our potential, our capabilities, safe to
even say our distinctfuture. Now with me, the walk towardsgainingJenny’s acknowledgement,wasthe quest
of attaining complete and utter happiness. As the day goes on, I feel a great urge, it’s as if the whole cosmic

3. universe is compellingme to, wellfor the first time, attempta decentconversationand concludeit with a kind
invite for either lunch or dinner. You see, you alwaysneed a contingencyplan for when plan A fails, you can
rely on a different promising tactic. As I seat on my side of the aisle enduring the same routine I’ve endured
for the 6 years. In the morning everyone rushes for tea, but my focus is always Jenny – two spoons of sugar,
three awkward spoons of coffee, that always leave me bewildered, no milk just the regular some old strong
blacktea.She’sthe only onein the office outofthe 33 colleaguesthathasa distinctchoice.The smellofcoffee
harborsthe wholeoffice,followedbyan underlyingsmellofdonuts.Oh donuts!!They’vebecometheabsolute
essence of this entire environment.But hey, who’s to say every work place doesn’t smell like donuts. Jenny
was my everydayfocus, I knew whatshe would do, at whatparticulartime, onewould come close to evensay
I wasone of the Russian spies, that monitoryour every movementand the strike. I’m not obsessed, or at least
after every self-diagnosis I end up with a safe deduction that suggest I’m not. I’m just a guy in the sidelines
hoping to be noticed, a guy who understandsyou from a distance without any sort of relation or divulgence.
Oh Jenny, the things I would do for you, your morningswould rain with your favoritecoffee, the exactway u

4. love it. I would devote my very being into submission, seeking solely to please and protect you. Would one
declare me crazy for having a laid out future plan for us. I mean, yes! We haven’tspoken, not alone dated. I
guess I’m just an optimistic person, Very hopeful I must say! (Saying it jest fully).
Reality is a pain in the ass, why would I let my very fraction of my altered reality strike me as odd. It should
bend to my will, but for some reason it stands out as if to say, you can’t have everything go the way u want
despite this being your dream or your imagination. What do you call something like this? A fragment of my
very own illicit reality?)… (Signs) Love is self-torment.