You sitting in a room. It’s not a motel room. You see an iPod, its not just any iPod. This is from the past generation and you wonder why Apple took so long to figure out they could add camera to iPod touch. And there is a split AC. It is a weird type of AC. Its slits close after it shows it has powered down. So if you pull the plug, it stays hanging in there. There is an almirah with a mirror. In the mirror you can see faces. But generally you see only one face. Inside there are drawers and compartments. There is more space. But I never knew that a little space could so badly pull a tandem of jealousy to the fore. The room has lights, four of them. And one really sleek and nice tube light. Else the room is pretty empty. It is so empty that the sound of the fan reverbrates all through, and there is no one to listen to it. No one. I think it is this place, this room, which I held sacred since long. That unseen force protecting me and taking care of me. It is gone. I can no longer feel it. I have stopped feeling Him.