Apocalypse

Press play to immerse yourself in the mood. ✨

4.00pm waiting for a London Overground train. My headphones are in, a melancholic soundtrack is about to start, surrounding me in a dreamy state of mind.

I feel an idyllic sunset this evening.

The wind is slowly blowing the burgundy leaves on the side of the platform, like pushing them onto a dance floor. They swirl and twirl and the subtle noise from the neighbouring trees sounds like encouraging applauds.

The sun is getting ready for its finale in today’s play. The clouds are catching purple shades and some are even blushing pink from the gazes of the wanderers on the streets.

Souls are rushing home after a long day at work, eager to hug someone dear, some are communing to their late-night shift. Some are drunk on happiness while some are feeling lost in their own thoughts.

But they all, at one point, stop to admire the sun’s exit off the world stage. Some exhale in relief that another day is over, hopeful that the moon will guide them through the night or guard their sleep. Some are hanging on to the last hours of the day with their loved one because tomorrow they will be closer to the sun and to the moon, drifting away from their soul mate, sitting on a lonely window seat, on a plane full of curious travellers.

One after another, the lampposts are illuminating the sidewalks, getting ready for the next leading actor.

The curtain is rising and the shining moon is now under the spotlight, appearing triumphant in the darkness of the night.

She will be the witness to everyone. Witness to love and to sorrow.

The most awaited moment of the day is near.

Now, the leaves are feeling tired from all the dancing, the wind is letting them rest. They sit quietly on the cold concrete, but some still shift from time to time.

Your lips, my lips, apocalypse.

The moon is smiling.

And I am home.