I think I died sometime around 2019 (2)

Part 1 --

Nothing is permanent. That is an immutable fact about the universe.

Entropy will continue to creep forward. Mountains will collapse, stars will die, and the worst day of your life will eventually come to an end.

So too, will the best day of your life.

---

I found myself sitting under the stars, dazed, a look of blank wonder in my eyes. The music was still ringing in my ears, despite the concert having ended a couple of hours earlier.

The cold crept up under my jacket, and tiny snowflakes settled on my hair and arms. I had been a child the last time I’d seen snow. Magnificent was the term that came to mind.

I felt the wet grass beneath my feet, and the wind playfully ruffling my hair. There was nowhere else in the universe I would’ve rather been.

Most of the crowd had dispersed by then, with only a few groups remaining here and there. I didn’t want the moment to end, so I stayed, trying to prolong it, as if attempting to defy entropy itself.

Maybe if I stayed on that little patch of grass, the snow would continue tickling my face, and the moment would go on forever.

I heard a childish laugh behind me, and then a deep voice :

-“You look like an old man. Are you OK over there?”

I glanced behind me. Charcoal black eyes, looking straight at me. Through me.

I froze, trying to remember how to speak human words. I failed spectacularly, then after a few seconds, laughed at myself. She joined in, giggling loudly.

-“What do you mean?" I finally managed to answer, the ridiculousness of the situation making me relax.

- “Well look at you. You have white hair now. Did dancing age you that much?” She ran her hand through my hair, and a few snowflakes melted. So did my heart.

- “ I.. I wouldn’t call that dancing. I don’t really know what I’m doing." I answered, trying to keep a semblance of composure.

- "Oh I agree. But you looked like you were having fun at least.” She grinned at me. “I hear tuberculosis is less fun though, so you might want to walk around a little, get some blood back to your body. Your face is as white as a ghost."

That’s because you still have your hands on my hair.

I smiled at her, and she showed me her teeth. Then she offered me her hand and helped me to my feet.

-          “Coffee? She suggested.

God yes.

  

Commentaires

Enregistrer un commentaire

Posts les plus consultés de ce blog

Bubbles (4)

Part 1 : Part 2: Part 3: Oh look, another flashback. How very creative. Amina had always prided herself on her ability to give very few fucks. The only thing she enjoyed more than not getting involved in other people’s affairs was people not getting involved in hers. Live and let live. Even so, there are some sights one just can’t ignore. Like an injured kitten looking at you with pleading eyes. Or a scrawny kid sitting on the stairs of your apartment at 11pm. -- He was a skinny, tiny little thing. He was sitting in a corner, his arms around his knees, probably trying to take as little space as possible. His brown, curly hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in months. He had tired grey eyes, a crooked nose, and more notably, a huge knife scar that slashed across his left cheek. His jacket and jeans had tears on them. Teenage boys had a notoriously bad sense of hygiene, but this was just a kid, and Amina could smell him long before she could see him. As she stepp...
Read more »

Bubbles (3)

  Part 1 :   Part 2: There is something eerily comforting about knowing that you’re slowly losing your mind. For one thing, trivial things no longer concern you as much. You stop taking things seriously. After all, your mind is slowly deteriorating, and there isn’t much you can do about it. So you decide to do dumb shit just for the sake of doing dumb shit. Like inviting your teenage neighbour over to smoke weed on a Monday night. --- Amina woke up much earlier than usual. It was still dark outside. She stretched, let out a loud yawn, and got out of bed. There was a makeshift mattress below her, where her neighbour had crashed. He was curled up in a ball with his hands on his knees, softly snoring. She quietly took off the glasses he still had on, put a blanket on top of him, ruffled his hair affectionately before stepping out to the balcony. The first dilemma Amina was faced with was whether to start her day with a joint. She easily solved it as she stared at a...
Read more »

Letters to the love of my life

  Hi there, I have no clue what I’m doing, and I have never done this before. Please bear with me. Actually, I lied. I did this once when I was 12. It was a long Facebook message. She was my first love and she preferred we remained friends. You know how you keep thinking about something over and over again, and somehow your brain tricks you into believing it is true? We’ve never talked before. I said hi to you a couple of times but you never said it back. You just stared at me until I felt like a creep and ran away with my tail between my legs. But then the next day, we stumbled into each other on the staircase and you smiled at me. I was too flustered to react. I thought you hated me. So my brain was indecisive. Just like teenage girls deciding on their feelings by peeling a flower, I had a different answer every time I thought about it. Does she like me? If she didn’t, why did she stare at me for so long? If she actually liked me, why didn’t she say hi back? It’s a lo...
Read more »