I waded through the mud at night and woke up on the shore. It’s over at last I thought. But there it was, waiting for me like a faithful loyal companion – melancholia. We didn’t greet each other. We just stood in silence, admiring the empty shore.
Waves crashed and broke, the sea spray splashed on our faces. There was no food in sight. Maybe we could fish I thought. Melancholia didn’t need food. It lived off of my broken heart anyway. So in this case it was well fed.
The catch was not great. But it tasted fresh after I grilled it over hot fire. The company I kept meant that even that joy was short-lived. It didn’t matter. The stomach is not like one’s heart. Eat and it feels full. The night was approaching fast. My companion was hyper active. It is a nocturnal beast and when night comes, it gets energised. I never understood the connection but at times it is nice to keep its company. At least better than sleeping alone.
In the morning when I woke up. The tide had gone back. A gentle breeze was blowing. Melancholia was fast asleep. Mornings were not its favourite. I enjoyed the solitude and went for a swim. When I came back, it was up. Another day in paradise.
