The Eternal Solitude

Walking through the shadowy path, guided by the crepuscular light, she lit a cigarette. The September breeze felt a bit cold to her. Chasing her own shadow, she finally stopped by the dale, sat on the same old rock where she used to spend hours talking to him, holding his hand. The rock felt colder than her heart, perhaps it was also craving for the warmth of his touch! A soothing calm was prevailing throughout the valley. The moon glinted on the stream making the water look like a silvery elixir of nostalgia. The luminescence fell on her face, she was still the same ethereal. She breathed out a swirl of cigarette smoke which billowed in the air, as if a brume of her bitter past was haunting her in the form of a smokey spook. Its rank fume was almost choking her. But somehow she remained insensitive to it. She felt like breathing the serenity and peace; a peace so pleasant, a peace so desirable, so enigmatic and illusory! She had always loved solitude. it brought her soul back to her.

She started scribbling on the rock. The space-craft was taking its leave, the smoke contrail was her limit. She felt drowsy as the nothingness and despair filled her heart. The rain was about to fall. She didn't find herself a shed as she wanted to get drenched; to wash away her pains. The raindrops sounded like little watery minstrels, bringing a harmonious symphony to her ears. But that was transitory. She was lost in the illusion. A sudden feeling of a spasm of pain brought her back to the harsh reality. She was actually being isolated from her soul.

It started to drizzle. The tiny droplets were then unfathomable arguments. Her tiresome contemplation made her fall asleep. Her wicked dreams were gone. She exorcised the agony. After the darkness full of dolor, melancholy and infelicity smothered her entirely, his memories created a void inside. And in the murk every night, she slowly died,