Memory Market! A Heartbreak story (Part-2)

Beneath the painting, the author reference was given that this painting belongs to the memory market which is the place for broken people.

I ran towards the exit gate, smashed open the door, and left in search of the memory market. I didn't know why I was crying at that time, but I was running across street to street in search of peace, peace of mind.

I booked a taxi and left for that place. When I reached the memory market, it was a double-story building with a board tied with a chain. Outside, instead of bricks, wood was used for building the walls. I thought it was just for decoration purposes, but after entering, I was surprised that the whole place was crafted with wood. The ceilings of the shop were very low, low enough that I could touch it if I jumped. On the left side, there was a section of books; the cabinets were full of books, and below, the readers were studying while sitting on wooden chairs. Five chairs for five people were present.

On the right side, the canteen was present. The whole place was quite clean and small. With the wall opposite to the entrance, the staircase was present that led to the 1st floor. On the first floor, there was an area for painting. The place was not that much professional, but still, it was bearing all the qualities or the environment that I wanted at that time - easels, palettes, and stools. There was pin-drop silence in the shop.

I took a brush from the palette and started drawing. Tears were shedding, and the brush was waving onto the blank canvas. I was so full of emotions that I didn't know what I drew. The only thing I remember is that I was crying. I cried a lot, but this time there was something different. After drying away the tears from my face, when I looked at the canvas, I was surprised that I had just drawn random lines – maybe it reflected the condition of my mind, totally messed up. I can't explain the intensity of relief I got at that time. My whole body

relaxed.

At times, the only thing I wanted was a comfy bed and a long sleep. Long enough to eliminate all the worst memories of the days that I spent with him. I was feeling happy. I was in the state where I wanted to move on. Then, a person approached me. He was a 6 foot tall man, bright charming skin, small dark brown beard, curly hairs, sharp jawline. He was just perfect, neither weak nor fat.

'Hi Ma'am, I hope I'm not disturbing you,' he asked.

'No no, you aren't. Is there anything you want?' I replied while bending my legs on the chair.

'Ma'am, I really like your painting. I honestly relate to it. I'm surprised that in the era of cellphones, there is someone who is coming to an old shop in which no one is interested,' he said.