Hell At Night

Revenge sometimes sounds sweeter than forgiveness. This is not about quiet sadness or bright nostalgia - it is a sharp fantasy on the theme of ‘may every word, every action come back to haunt you.’ The desires are petty, almost mundane - may the heater blow cold air, may the car drive itself away, and may sleep turn into a nightmare. And all this against a backdrop of rhythm that rocks as if anger can dance too. The evening promises heat, the night promises insomnia, and memory turns into a bonfire that never goes out.