In The Dark

     He didn’t understand it. Nor did anyone else. But they couldn’t, he thought with condescension or was it envy masquerading as disdain? This dispassionate passion was tearing him apart like no other. His life fell to ruins as he watched, smiled, thought and devoured the spirit that was she. He felt as if it were a motion film he was watching – his life gradually, naturally blending into a farrago making her the centre of his love-struck universe. Love. It was too feeble a word, too misplaced an emotion – its commonness bordering on the vulgar. No, to call it love would be blasphemous.

Suddenly, in an almost metamorphic flash, he felt cool and far away. As if he was as detached from it as he only hoped he would be. For himself and for her. There wasn’t a night he didn’t torment his narcotized brain, asking of it to deliver the answer to that one question. That one answer which might, just might, afford him redemption.