I never hit the bottom – as I reached it, I remained hoovering. Steep cliffs were surrounding me. I could see the sky above me, but there was no way to reach it. The air was stifled but it didn’t bother me. I was mist and mists do not breathe. There was a light breeze of less stifled air coming from one of the cliffs. I let it take me into a small crack in the cliff. This crack was few meters deep and it ended in a spacious room.
The darkest part of this part was inspired by Ernesto Cortazar’s “Beethoven’s silence” so I advise you to listen to it while reading this. After that try to play Schubert’s “Serenade” and “Waltz No. 2” by Dmitri Shostakovich. It will put you in the same mood I was in when writing this part.
In the afternoon she told me to leave the cave. My wounds healed up and I didn’t need her help anymore. I left it the way I entered it – through my waterfall. When I stepped on the lake bank the grass wasn’t sharp anymore, neither were rocks nor branches. It all seemed like a nightmare that ended in the cave. It was late afternoon when I left my lake. I needed to hurry up to get to the village before the night fall.
I was dragged down the cave floor. When I would occasionally open my eyes, all I could see were cave’s ground and her feet. Yes, a woman was dragging me, I could tell by her feet. A part of my tummy and my whole legs were touching the ground as I was being pulled deeper into the cave. Don’t try to imagine the pain of freshly cut wounds and the friction between the warm bumpy cave’s ground and those wounds. When I was coherent I knew there are no nails underneath me. Unfortunately, those moments were short and rare.
Today I woke up with a desire to disappear. Sun barely got up when I put my sneakers on and started running. The more I ran, the more I felt free, liberated. I don’t know for how long I ran when I became aware of the sweat on my skin. I kept running but I didn’t watch where I was heading, all I was thinking of was that sweat on my back. A droplet formed and started sliding down my neck. All I could think of, all I could feel was that droplet. It was hot when it formed on the neck but the wind made it cold as it progressed towards my back. It tickled as its coldness touched my hot skin. You are probably expecting my skin to be bronze like all those other women’s skin but it’s not. It is as white as it always has been.
One night, old lady sat next to my fire. She was watching me attend my scratches and bruises. I am usually the one that asks all sorts of questions and make jokes. Not this night though. I decided to be quiet until she speaks to me.
“Do you still think of a woman that left the island?”
“Yes, sometimes I do. I wonder what happened to her.”
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I am living with them for almost three months now. On my repeated questions about their disappearing, they told me they were here all the time. They couldn’t see me but they did sense my presence. Maybe I didn’t sense their presence because I was new on the island…I don’t know.
I am sitting on a beach surrounded by friends. We are laughing a lot. Every time I am with them my tummy hurts so much. Guys decide to search the woods to use as firewood. We are going to have a beach barbecue. Girls went for a swim. We are swimming around the island. Well, we are trying to but neither of us is actually that good of a swimmer. Except maybe for Clara but she is thoughtful enough not to let it show. Girls scattered and went quiet, we are all experiencing this part of paradise for ourselves.
The water around me is still. I can hear the ocean kissing the shore. Suddenly everything is dark around me. Where am I? I can hear children playing outside. Hm..outside…that means I am inside..but where? My eyes are slowly getting accustomed to darkness and I can see windows and sun rays shining through them. I look around…this seems like a cellar. There are stairs right in front of me, doors on the top of the stairs are open. Climbing up the stairs is weird. As I am getting higher, my feet are growing heavier. By the time I reach the door, I can’t move them at all. I mean I can’t make a step forward but making a step backward is easy.
I turn my back to the door and try to make a step backward now. My feet are not moving. Making a step forward, deeper into the cellar, is easy. I turn around again, put my hands on the door frame and, as much as I can, stick my head out the door. This seems like a cozy family home. Children that I heard earlier probably live here. I shouldn’t panic, things seem under control.Read More »
Nights here are colder than one would expect. I ended up sleeping next to the fire in front of my house. In the morning, there was still no sign of women. I searched the whole village in order to find some food. There was fish and bread enough for just one more meal. So I went to the fishing nets to find something I know how to use. Some sort of fishing rod and a small hook was laying there just waiting to be found.
So here I am now, trying to catch a fish for more than 6 hours now. They either don’t bite at all, or get off the hook at some point. This seemed easier while I was watching my dad do it. Sadly, it is just as boring now as it was back then.
Have you noticed that in public toilets for men there is always soap whereas public toilets for women are often without it? I mean, one would expect men’s hands are bigger than women’s so they would use more soap than us right? Does it happen to you..it happens to me sometimes when I press the soap button…it misses my hand and the soap gets spilled on the wash basin…I always think of a premature soapaculation…and then I wonder if I should clean that up or not…the naughty side of me usually leaves it…Read More »
I hear the sound of waves touching a shore, my skin is really hot and a scent of the sea is filling my nostrils. I try to open my eyes but the sun is too strong so I decide to keep them closed for a while. This is actually pretty comfortable, even the sand is soft. After a few deep breaths I feel even better. As the sun is getting stronger, my clothes are getting drier.Read More »
When I was small, much smaller than I am now, you used to take me to your office whenever I wasn’t in school.
I remember, you used to fill in your serious reports while I was playing in your office. Sometimes you worked so hard that I would fell asleep on that gray sofa you had there. But I didn’t mind, I knew when I wake up your work will be finished and we will spend time talking about stuff that were pretty serious for me back then.
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