Destined

Young's diary

May 25th Sunny
Bruised face recovered a bit, fresh breeze reappeared inside the cabin. Sitting in the train that was taking me back to Macondo, what happened in Liverpool lingered in my brain. Liberals became history, forgotten, down the drain. So close to home, I could smell it through the window. Hmm, the subtle cymbidiums were still blooming, I miss the field, where the sun could rip off my shade of childish ...
Suddenly, a trainman came up to me "Mr. Young, your letter. " I fetched it and opened it up.

To Young:
I was just a little disappointed, maybe handcuffs just couldn't hold the destined quite well.
As a confession, I came up with the suicide plan, every movement, I was a part of it. My dad and I were obsessed with war genre movies, Dunkirk in particular. We were amused by how they treated blunders as gambits, through the woods and made their presence felt.
I'm an outcast. Revolutions are not won by evacuations. But there was a victory inside the deliverance which ought to be noted.
What happened in Liverpool happened, and you must expect another blow to strike almost immediately
I would never surrender even if which I do not for a moment believe, the Liberals were subjugated and starving. Then my empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the fleet, would carry on the struggle.
Until, in God's good time, with all its power and might, steps forth to the revenge and the liberation of the old. Catch me, Young, don't let me elope."
I looked out of the corridor, our gaze met for a split second. He was the trainman standing beside the kitchen table ahead, disappeared with the wind.