Achilles' Heel

I find myself falling into a bottomless pit in total darkness. I couldn't see my arms nor feet. There is no tinge of light and the only thing I could feel is that I'm falling into a state of nothingness that stretches miles and miles on - perhaps there isn't even an end to it. My state of mind hasn't been kind towards me these days. That explains the frequent entries here. If there's a scarcity of posts here, you know my insides are intact and functioning properly. 

I tried to be still but my soul cries unrest. And with a civil war happening all within, I find myself having to cope with tidal cognitive waves, a growling stomach, two smoked lungs and a pair of droopy eyes. Nothing seems to move. This unstoppable train has run out of steam. 

"I need to dress up, doll up, go out, to a bar or something, blend into the ambience and the dark, have one or two cocktails, watch people as I think. That way, in the dark, maybe I could see some light. Perhaps not as quite the light which one wishes to find but I'll settle for now."

Cissy took out her gloves as she walked through the cherrywood door. She was wearing a black dress and her favourite Ferragamos. It was autumn, the air reeked of withered flowers and dried leaves. 

"I've just been to the Irish bar down that street, at the corner after you took a left turn. As I sat by one of the tables towards the end of the bar, I saw Madelia and Courtesan Achilles walking in and taking their seats at a small round table adjacent the stage. Taking the stage was a soprano singing sorrow to all the broken-hearteds. Seated side by side with no obvious sign of affection, Madelia and Courtesan Achilles didn't notice me at all. They looked as if they were in a world which belongs to the both of them. And I was the onlooker, watching from afar. They were laughing and I saw Madelia mouthed 'Cissy'. Courtesan Achilles threw her head back and laughed with enthusiasm. Madelia continued mentioning 'Cissy' for a while before the soprano let out an A5." 

Having prepared herself a lowball of whiskey, Cissy then sat down in her favourite red couch that's the center-piece of the hall. She took a sip and began to weep.

"It pains me to know that I've been made a joke. But what can I do? I love her."