blue
The sad man stares at a blank page and is afraid to mark it with more words that sound the same as everything that came before. Rhetorical nonsense borne of a broken heart. Borne of longing. Borne of loneliness. Last night in an open field, beneath the moon, the sad man watched Rancid, a band he has loved for more than twenty years, and came to realise that he was the only one in the field who stood alone and watched. He thought of some of the people he’d once known who were in different and far away countries and contemplated how much they would have loved the event… but how they would prefer to be at the event with other people these days and no longer with him. It doesn’t detract from the enjoyment derived from the concert as he sang along to songs old and new that served to alleviate a sense of being blue.