Music plays undisturbed in the background. The sound drifts through the air leaving the traces of a sweet, melancholic melody. It is the only noise disturbing the thought traffic in my brain. The sound is faint, but the words are clear and crisp leaving an imprint on the eardrums of those within reach of the rhythm. When the melody reaches me, it leaves more than a sole imprint. Just as a traveler walks into a hotel and leaves with the same suitcases, so should the rhythm of a song disappear once its last note is played. Yet, this is not the case. The music plays, diving into the groove of my memory and leaving… which in turn leaves me feeling nothing but a numbness throughout my essence.
8 December 2015