The Pearls of Catharsis Times Issue 02, Dec 2016 | Page 25

Guitar strings attached

With the rustling leaves whooshing down the woods and the snowman being bubbly as ever, the spirit of Christmas stroked my cheek, but my skin didn ' t react to it. The whole world seemed like a moving graphic, playing on repeat numerous times and foxing my mind even further. It all didn ' t matter anymore. My world had already collided with the sun, only to become a lesser known source of light. I perched on my veranda in spite of the biting cold and hugged my knees with my arms to gain a little comfort. My tea had turned cold amidst all that contemplation. Of course I could have made another one, or just warmed it, but I went inside and chucked it down the basin. " Why did you do that?" I heard a voice, similar to his whisper. I turned around to see a man about his size standing with folded arms and grinning as if he ' d been caught for a prank. I avoided his question and went to my room. He was probably one of the many guests I had at my place. I never interacted with any of them. They always found a way to annoy me. Guests are called guests for a reason; they are supposed to comprise of only a few minutes of your life and not take up residence in it, however abstract life may be. A lifeless thing such as my room comprehended me, or at least happened to be a shoulder to me. So, I went to sit by the window sill, and tried to complete my drafts. It was the only thing that kept me going. My journal consisted of souvenirs of our meetings, and every time I looked at that them, my eyes would well up. That didn ' t stop me from reliving those moments. I traced the four-leafed clover he had gifted me, with three-fourth of my skin and the remaining one-fourth with my sweater ' s extended sleeve. I went into a trance as his memories flooded my thoughts. Just then, a purposeful cough startled me. It was him. Again. I looked away instantly, trying my best to go back to my daydream. He just smirked at my actions and came and sat next to me. He looked here and there and then tried to make eye contact with me. He would incline his head towards the side I would turn. When I finally looked towards him, he let out a laugh. I didn ' t join his laughter. It didn ' t seem right to laugh. Just the thought of it made me feel guilty. It was like enjoying his absence.