It was 5 am and Griffith was still wide awake. Lady Sleep had failed to tempt him and Sandman failed to do his work on his eyes.Was he dreaming? It felt more hallucinated and haunted than real and living, as he never thought that he would bump into someone who's so similar to him yet different,.Irene Dalacruz, the only one who stole his sleep, Griffith just stumbled upon her blog, "This Morning of Fate" and he was taken aback by the storm of words and ideas she penned down, So graceful in every