The wall had been a light blue. I fail to recall the exact shade, however, blue is the most likely… on second thoughts, maybe it had been green. No, not the green of the grass in Spring, this had a bluish hue in it, sea green I presume. I remember staring at the wall in stubborn concentration, my throat dry and aching. So single-minded had been my regard that a glass barrier seemed to have had erected itself between me and the rest of the world. A sense of detachment permeated my being. Nevertheless, the sea of the wall invaded my senses, I felt as if I was drowning in it, gasping for breath. The pair of hastily discarded slippers, lying awry in the corner, and the wire-rimmed glasses sitting atop an open magazine on the coffee table appeared surreal to my swimming vision. Cardiac arrest likes to make unannounced visits; the mourners were still in the room, weeping, grieving. Conversely, the weather refused to empathise, the sun shone brightly that day. He lay there while everyone paid their respects, I didn’t; the empty shell was not the man I knew and so I shrunk away, unable to face him. I sent a silent apology to his soul.