Of the sun that appeared darker although it shone brightly and the sturdy palm trees that danced to the light December breeze. The dark and gloom swallowed her.

The uneven rhythm broke, the tap stopped as she fell down on the floor, moans turned to sobs and later loud cries. The song reached its end

It hurts the way that you pretend you don remember…

Her cries grew louder, her body curled and shaking, could have been the heartache or the pain of crying for so long. Time refused to be a healer and she was trapped in her hopelessness. Because, at one time she dared to love, she had to dare to let go.

The lone room disappeared, the music struck its last chords and the sounds of her sobs quieted down. The bottle of whisky she was tempted with was all bits and pieces of her struggle to not harm herself.

He stepped into the eerily silent room and was accosted by the smell of alcohol that stagnantly spread on the uncarpeted floor. The lone helpless figure sprawled at the far left end of the room looked like it was calling for help. Her vulnerability broke his heart. Slowly and carefully, he picked her up and lay her in her bed, wiped sweat off her brow, attempted to straighten her creased brow and draw a smile from her down-turned lips.

May be, if she wakes up smiling genuinely tomorrow, the dark sun that she keeps talking about would shine in its pure unadulterated magnificence.

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