Melancholy – S. K. Nicholas


In the middle of eating my sandwich, I come to the sudden realisation that every squareinchof this planetmust behaunted.Even worse, is thatsuch traumaisas natural as the falling ofrainfrom cloudsthat come and go like the beat of a heartburiedbeneath sheets unwashed for several weeks.My sheets,and my heart,I’m ashamed to say.Yesterday, itseemed to bethe ‘90s, and for one brief moment,I was happy. As a kidagain,mylittlehandsplucked sweets from the picknmixin Woolworths. Someof thesweets were paid forby my grandmother, others were not, but none of it matters, becausethe older I get,the less place there isin the worldforthat whichwasonce everything.

Placingmy sandwich…

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