Sam Spruell in Sudden Light (2019) a 15-minute short experimental horror film. It was an entry at the Festival de Cannes by Sophie Littman.

I admit that I am chicken shit when it comes to anything horror - as I told @californiablues88 so it took me a while to watch it. And after I did watch it I wasn't sharp enough to get it on the first try and had to look up a viable explanation for it. I mean, I get it now. Regardless, I love the scenery. I am big on ambience and mood and setting so this movie really ticked those boxes for me.

Watch it here.

I have been here before,

But when or how I cannot tell:

I know the grass beyond the door,

The sweet keen smell,

The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.

You have been mine before,

How long ago I may not know:

But just when at that swallow’s soar

Your neck turned so,

Some veil did fall- I knew it all of yore.

Has this been thus before?

And shall not thus time’s eddying flight

Still with our lives our love restore

In death’s despite,

And day and night yield one delight once more?

“You have been mine before,

How long ago I may not know...”   - Sudden Light (D.G. Rossetti)

We went out for a movie today. Tonight, well. It was cold when we came out. Pulled sleeves of our jackets and hands in the pockets we were walking towards home. I bought a cup of coffee from a shop. And as we were walking, for some reason I thought about him. I thought about how the cold air of the night seemed warm in the denim jacket that I was wearing. I thought how it would have been if we went to a movie, here in this city, in Delhi.

The coffee was strong according to my taste (I don’t really like strong coffee) but still when it went down my food pipe, it left a good taste in my mouth. My tongue savoured the taste of the caffeinated drink. It might have been the effect of the night, you know thinking about him and stuff. But anyways, unlike many other times, I let those thoughts surround me. I did not push them away. I liked to imagine how it would have been - walking through the midnight roads of this city, sipping our favourite hot beverages (I mean I don’t know if he liked coffee), talking about the universe, chasing the stars, discussing our favourite things. I told myself again, maybe this was just the effect of the night, wishful thinking, you know. 

The sky here at night is always very gloomy and dull. You can never see a star shining up there. The sky takes out its frustration and exhaustion in forms of clouds of smoke and fumes at night which covers its layers, hiding away the twinkling little beings. But that’s about it. “The fault, dear Brutus is not in our stars. But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” We are, aren’t we? 

I was crazy and you were trouble. But maybe, maybe we could’ve overcome both of our faults and discover our stars. It wouldn’t have mattered if we were underlings, then. 

And then I thought, maybe we could have shared our going-ons,

Your pressure, my suffering,

My heart, your ache.

Maybe we could’ve. But we don’t know now. We never would.

A friend once told me, humans can be addictive too. You know, like how they say in those romantic poems and songs about making homes in people. I don’t think I could or I can take more addictions now. 

The coffee and this night is enough for me.