Noir - A Short Story on an Impulse.

The numbness felt within me like a dark cloud quelling itself during the day only to float  in the moonlit sky. The moon must have better prospects unlike me. Hardy came over to ask me if I wanted to go out for a walk with him. I declined rather moodily. He grimaced and walked past. My senses were wandering outside the casement only to perceive the day’s sufferings of the people, I felt no pain, therefore no suffering. I felt numb and bother less. I slouched upon my armchair all the day, evening and during the night, I slept in my indifferent posture upon it.

The next day Hardy did not bother to come up and wake me. Around six, the dim sunlight peeked towards my casement and smoothed my eyes, causing me to wake up stealthily. When I prodded down into the kitchen, I continuously stared upon the plate which contained two fried idlis and pieces of julienned carrots. I ate it up all greedily as hunger had dusked upon me for two perpetual days. I searched for  him and found him in the geranium. A newspaper was concealing his brown face. He became distracted by my noisy breathing and looked intently towards me. A yellowish-brown husky face which had two stubbles at the bottom right and I stared straight into his noir eyes which had a deep conveyance but failed to convey anything; a face which would convulse any human looking at it with intensity or be easily overlooked. Countenance to me, whether beautiful or not beautiful, tends to attract my eyes which are itself misty-unknown-creatures that do many subtle collapses.

 “Do you need anything?” he asked, relaxing his eyes upon my shoulder.

“I feel drained,” I substantiated feebly.

“What do you want?” he emphasized on want.

“To escape from this noise that does not cease to seize me,” I trembled.

“What noise now?” he asked irritably.

“Noise that culminates at the start, that which terrifies the sleeping soul, that which persuades towards obscurity, that which ridicules the soft feelings and that which makes living a nightmare.” I stormed gloomily.

“You are lost Clamene,” he sighed.

                                                         _______

  

 I hadn’t spoken to him since the recognition of my ailment. He persuaded to assist me in everything but I had denied his generosity at every moment, which made him only a mute statuesque these lowly days. I frankly did not wish for anything but was only interested in sitting on my armchair only to encounter death. “What is this apprehension in every human’s mind appertaining to the concept of death?” I thought for every minute. Striding and scattering the world over to feed themselves and just live.

He did not comprehend any of my feelings for this profound life that I had been gifted carelessly.  One day he entered my dark room to offer me a tomato soup, I accepted it shyly and drank it heavily.  He noticed my displeasure towards all the things granted to me, there onwards he neither summoned me nor brought me anything.

These were my usual, potentially-painful days. We had not spoken to each other over a month now. He cooked, read and worked; I sat judiciously and slept with a doleful pain within my mortal body. I rather did not interpret days ahead of me which loathed my living itself.

The guilt and remorse of losing had overtaken me. I longed to survive my youth once more, to experience the sonorous laughter and all-dulcet-smiles. The love that had perished under the realm of  the cycle of birth and death. It had not yet slept but was just slumbering. I did want to kiss him again on that cheerful turned sad brow. I longed to pacify it but it was myself who craved it.

I went to him one day, the road wasn’t making shanty noises nor were people buzzing down the pavement, it was a public holiday. I desperately descended down the stairs to look at him for the last time because I had felt death reciprocating my illness only a few minutes ago. I struggled towards him, he was resting himself upon the armchair besides the extinguished fire which was emitting bushy smoke. I crouched before him, he was fast asleep. I murmured his name with a tinge of pleasure, he still sat dumb. Horror crawled within me, I was unsure but hesitatingly I looked for his pulse, it did not beat. I stammered and wrestled to call out his name for one last time but my little strength disappointed me and I leaned across his body, frozen.