Bacchanalia

As I sit alone in the rain under a slim bit of shade drinking what was donated to me and watching a ladybird climb up my chair, I am reminded of my past bacchanalian excesses. Of a time when good friends of high standing, not of wealth or pillars of society but instead rich in music and learning met to discuss our disillusionment and drank and danced the night away.

Perhaps a fictional past of a fictional individual.

I may have a scintilla of red dust still clinging to my garment but good to revisit the past even if in a daydream.

Norfolk, VA

Laks Indrakaran