The melancholia in the air wherever I go is stifling and not just for me. I'm like a wounded gazelle walking among the herd, earning sympathy and pity in equal measure. The only animal I'm concerned with, however, is the jackal in their midst.
Everything's calm, everything's quiet. Things are settling, returning to normal. The self-sustaining systems are realigning and the wheels turn again. Disaster has been averted and the defensive walls are falling.