Sentenced- The Darkness of Mere Being

After such a long time, a gap so long that all the sand of the Elliots cannot suffice for reckoning the days that filled it in its hourglass ways, long enough to contain the collapse of veritable corporations long cherished for trustworthiness, long enough to drag others along with it causing a fleeting flutter of despair just palpable in the horizon, it felt wonderful, alone in the midst of company, to walk into a dingy theater reeking of stagness, Bacchus bidden and 2 pints filled, to watch the last picture show, to fall in half in love with a amateur production, to watch dusty Old Delhi conflate into New York lights, urging me to take a not so biblical bite into the big apple, the city so nice and twice baptised , to experience sleep induced collapses of memory, spirit induced sketchiness in narration, to fall for an ordinary woman, who stole a glance too many, whose hair in curls creep just so as to gently fall on her shoulders and graze it, a woman fathered by a man hairy-armed and country-named, a man new to international fame, a man-ape who could have so easily been in the production himself-itself, to let light be, even if ephemerally, to kill the many-moon aged darkness of my mere being.