Something In The Air

There’s something in the air. It’s spreading, it seems contagious. It’s been painting pale coats of white over peoples faces, it’s been removing the varnish from shiny eyes, it’s been turning smiles upside down and sending shivers up their spines. The people who have caught it have become immune to laughter, have had their brain knotted and tied up, have had their hearts hammered at and shattered into a billion pieces. Their hands seem as if they’ve held ice for hours: they’re numb and clammy. Their feet seem as if they’ve had sandbags tied to them: barely able to lift heavy bodies through each step. Their smile has been pulled down with the force of gravity, their shoulders weighed down with pain in control. Where has their happiness disappeared to? Has it been lost in oceans, over mountains, through tunnels, across deserts? When will they be able to hold happiness in their fingertips once again?