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Thelatenightconversationretold

NNM
NNM
6mo India Story
The late night conversation retold

I came home early tonight. I took a sip of that smooth, disgusting whiskey –smooth because it’s expensive for my pockets -disgusting because it burns my throat when I take that pretentious sip.

Before that, I turned the key and switched on the lights to an empty room. Took my phone out and fidgeted with it to check whether I had any messages. Empty notifications didn’t exactly have me jumping with joy. I laid that curse-of-a-phone down on the table and changed into whatever made me comfortable. I picked up the phone again; I thought I felt it vibrate. A few group messages that don’t really concern me.

I’ve often had conversations which didn’t make sense at the dead of night. But the night had come down like it always did and I didn’t want to be rude, and we had our once-in-a-lonely-moon conversation. It went something like this…

It was a lonely conversation. There were no words spoken, only a lot of emotions felt…
She named no one, she blamed no one, but they began anyway...she wanted to have a conversation because it was the only alternative at hand.
It started to pour. The rain hit the concrete roof and tapped heavily on the tin sheets. The lightening and the thunder complemented it all. She wanted to get soaked in the rain and shut out the world, but the Night wouldn’t let her. It turned off the lights and pulled her closer. It was the only way she could feel it in its entirety.
A few large gulps of that sickening whiskey and she sat down staring blankly at the closed curtains, still listening to the pouring rain, still getting glimpses of the lightening and the sound of thunder. The Night took her in its arms as she sat there motionless. That’s when her eyes began to well up… She started contemplating on her existence.
A trickle of a tear down her left cheek… and then the right. The Night held her tighter and she slowly began to lose herself in its darkness. Tears turned to sobs, but the rain and thunder were doing their job of drowning out the noise and maybe stopping everyone from rescuing her soul from the Night. Every loving embrace had her suffocating, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She gave in to the Night and laid down with it as lovers do. The whiskey had done it for the Night.
Hours later, dawn broke and she was left feeling empty as always –unloved, unwanted.
She knows the Night will come again, only this time, she won’t dim the lights.

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