He remembers it perfectly. July the 6th. It was the darkest night he had ever seen. And in the darkness appeared the face that once seemed so innocent to him.
It was innocent no more. It had turned beastly. Even the moon couldn’t provide relief to him that night. The night was cold, uncharacteristic of the month of July.
Alone and broken, he kept walking. A humble tear emanating from his left eye. Soon it started to rain.
Were the stars crying with him? But he wasn’t crying. Not anymore. He screamed, perhaps in agony. But no one heard, who would? It seemed strangely comforting though. The best he had felt in the past few days
That felt good. I should have done it earlier. Preferably to her face.
It was a long walk. Overcome by pain, drenched in fear yet calm, he kept walking. He could not fathom a life without her. A dream with her face in it turned nightmare for him.
He forced a smile, it didn’t appear though. His thoughts and feelings could be expressed by only one word – black. He lighted his joint, hoping that the memories would fade away with the smoke. They didn’t.
Damn! There’s adulteration in everything today. Even weed.
He was still walking. Trying not to reminisce the memories yet failing every time. He was tired of the sick little game they call love. Each puff reminded him of her face.
He threw his chillum away. He was high enough. Sitting on a stone, he looked up to the sky. There were no stars that night. Just the moon, stripped of all its glory.
His eyes now fixed on the long road ahead. All he could see were pieces of broken glass, spilled kerosene, and half-burnt photographs.
My little brain has got a mind of its own.
Something hurt inside. He wasn’t sure what it was. He felt suffocated. He wasn’t feeling very good but he had to go on…
To be continued…