8th March, 2018

There aren’t many things on a murder-ridden island that a semi-retired archaeologist like me can get up to but I have been managing. All the murder stuff obviously does provide good entertainment too. It brings out the most raw and real versions out of people—the most fun ones too. People-watching hasn’t been this engaging in a while. The noiseless chaos, almost numbing that is usually buzzing around me, in the house too has quietened down a little. It is like everything is a little more in focus. Ghosts of the past still claw at my back with such desperation but it has been easier to ignore them these days. As much as I have been doing better in some ways, I have also been having these strange recurring dreams. It’s always the same thing. It starts with me at the sea, alone, watching as the waves crash onto the shore in confounding loudness. I feel a presence behind me, a familiar one at that. I turn around. Far off, into the distance in the woods that seemingly surround the beach, I see a naked figure staring at me. Jet-black tears rush down my face as my heart starts beating faster. And then I wake up. For a week or so now, this has happened every night without fail. I am not a big believer in analysing dreams but I get this feeling that this one is trying to tell me something. I don’t know. There was a big brawl at Mocair’s on the fourth between Jose and Mocair. And then Jose was found dead the next day. It was very strange but seeing the trajectory that Jose was on, it did not surprise me that this happened. The brawl itself interested me. Drew’s reserved concern laced with slight apprehension, Erin’s steely yet definite watch over everything, Klaudia’s watchful and sharp eye, Yusuf’s pathetic awkwardness, June’s worry—it was all spelled out loud and clear in the bar. It was fascinating. I spent that night by myself. I opened a bottle of wine after a long time and danced in my living room to the music I put on my old gramophone. It was refreshing doing something I hadn’t done in so many years. Yesterday was Jose’s funeral and only a handful of people turned up. They left as soon as it was done too, as if they were repulsed by the very air surrounding that place. As if death was going to seep into their veins too if they stayed for too long. If I had to tell them anything it would be that death never seeped into your veins. It latched on you and followed you to the ends of the earth till you turned back to face it and finally accepted its sweet kiss.

~SJ