It was late evening, the street lamps providing little illumination inthe near starless night. I walked as if I knew where I was going, andsomewhere ...n my mind I suppose I did. There were some last actionsneeded to make your death an end instead of a tailing off.Along the way I stole a red paint aerosol from an all-night conveniencestore and sprayed your name as I went, painting in letters as high as myreach. A group of teenagers pointed and laughed, shouting incoherentthreats at my back. I. Right.Now I usually put all the files (from the different cameras, as I record Audio right into the computer) onto my pc and mostly "call it a day" when it comes to tributes.The next day, I do my editing.Normally I start by going through the pictures I have taken and decide which should be my intro and which my outro. Once that decision is made, I import them into photoshop and fiddle around until I have three or four different "steps" for each.1. The "normal" one2. A little bit changed (mostly. Aparam avan en position ku vanthan na avan soothula vittu athe mathi nalla kuthunen konja nerathula nanum en kanja avan suthulayae vittan aparam rendu perum dress mattikitu ukanthu irunthomkonja neram reandu perum konjam relax pannom aparam avan ena dodgy style la iruka sonnan nanum irunthen avan poola mella en suthula vittan enaku sema valli so avana porumaya vida sonnen avan porumaya mulusa vittan konja neram apadiyae irunthom aparam avan start pannen first slow ha kuthunan aparam poga poga. ” “Its o.k.,” I told her and walked and took the baby in my arms. He continued to cry, but I rubbed his back and neck. Then I told Amana to take a shower and go to bed because she needed some sleep. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I don’t feel right abandoning you like this.” “Go on, get in the shower and try to relax. Everything will be o.k.” Amana was hesitant but walked into her bedroom and in a few minutes I heard the shower turn on. The baby was still crying, but not with the.