Story writing can get you shining like a star for all eyes to see if only you will keep doing it and never give up. I will only find full joy in death the day you will take up your reserved place amongst the very best.
I deciphered that Bosco must have been dying as he wrote me, when I read this concluding part of the letter. I broke down in tears which tore off and hit the letter in my hands so much that it almost got completely soggy. It was a day after I had read this letter that I heard Bosco Jude, my literary Dad, was no more. Testicular cancer saw to that, though he never looked sick, not even a bit, the times I had met with him. His demise left a huge vacuum in my life, but set my eyes much more firmly on achieving my dream, as his voice of guidance seemed to rumble to my hearing,
