Interrogation.
..The cold back of chair supported her head as she closed her eyes to hide tears flooding her eyes.
Solitude was never as pleasing as she had thought it to be. There was always a thin line between solitude and loneliness. Never did she realize when her increasing desires had pushed her away from contentment back to that dusty chamber of loneliness. Being depressed was now a second nature, laughters forgot their way to her heart. Trimming hair and dressing well were now long gone traditions
'Just give it some time. It will all be calm once again. You will be alright.' He tried to lit a flame of hope.
'The wick is burning, the wax melting, the pain turning to smoke and I have my windows closed to let the air stay out.'
She mumbled in shivering voice.
'Who cares for a cold candle? who cares for a burnt out lamp?'
'You know, you don't look good this way. I know you can survive.'
He turned the table lamp on to poison the balmy darkness.
'I have mourned over grieves that weren't even mine. I have lit the secluded nights that didn't even belong to me. I have lost a sweet love I am drowning in interrogation.'
She wept off the wet side of her red eye.
I noticed some tears smudging the letters in her lap.
There it struck again; realization of who she actually was.
