False Memories (Part 1)

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

DISCLAIMER: the events and the characters mentioned in this story are the product of the author’s imagination

I guess it all began the moment I slammed the door loudly, causing the tiny rivers and streams of stone dust and chalk to run down onto the floor. I quickly scrutinized the tiny crevices and cracks around the doorframe – eternal remnants of my mood swings and our bitter quarrels… I ran down the steps diving into the silver moonlight that stole all the colors of this world except for black and white… 

I could discern the catlike silhouettes in the silver slits of windows. All the voices from different flats were mixed and united in one preaching chorus, and all the graffities and scribbles that casually adorned the staircase during the day now were turned into magical patterns and figures. Like cavemen, we continue on and on to mark our achievements, wishes and feelings, etching them deep into the wall.

The entrance door swung open, welcoming the wet, damp wind to fill the darkness. A few rare cool drops of rain fell on my face, mingling and mixing with tears, calming me, reviving and suddenly filling everything with a sense of hope again. I went out, looking up at the sky and breathing deeply, trying to regain composure. My jacket was unzipped carelessly, my strides were long and bold… It was an attempt to become one with the wind, one with the coming storm, to cast off all formalities, reject the laws of physics, and fly over the earth in elemental fury.

A burning array of yellow windows was outlined brightly against the gray carcasses of the buildings, almost indiscernible in the surrounding darkness… I wish I could say the same about the drunken crowd of people, who were shouting and cursing loudly, while checking out the surroundings with an immense hunger for destruction. So I halted for a moment, praying to become invisible. 

Continue reading “False Memories (Part 1)”

Towards the Bus Stop

The calming velvet darkness covered her tightly, weaving the net of dreams inside her head. The girl stirred in her bed, shuddered and then unwillingly opened her eyes, “So cold!” First wish was to continue sleeping, never give up that realm of warmth, of acceptance… And whatever else she had never seen in her life. Then she laid still, waiting for her mother to wake up.

Elise laid silently and listened, but caught no motion in the bathroom or the hall. “What the hell is she doing? Perhaps she has already gone, and I just didn’t hear it”. Anyway, she had to wake up finally, so she sat down with a moan of disappointment, waited until the head became clear and the world before her eyes became stable enough to stand up and continue the morning routine. “It’s so dark outside…” The girl was utterly surprised to find neither a sound, nor the slightest movement in their flat and outside. Painful and overwhelming “I’m late!” rang in her head, made her heart run and jump chaotically in her chest. Unknown and unperceived power drew her out of her flat – faster… faster. Faster! “I’m always late!”

Continue reading “Towards the Bus Stop”

Theatre

I’m on the stage again,
The lights are shutting down…
It’s silent all around
Another play… In vain.

The roles are changing,
But the essence… stays the same,
The figures silently arranging:
We are so pale, worn out, mundane...

I can be here no longer! - in my heart
Is resonating loudly. Though, yet,
The rules are plain: I act my part,
Pretend and smile till it will be the end…

Of story.
Ah, we are sorry:
The end will never come.
And I will lie, make someone cry, until we die…
And then again, that’s only outcome.

Though, still...
I crave for freedom and the end of lessons
To feel acceptance, peace, without questions,
To finally dissolve in omnipresence
Of first and final action, thought or sense,
Eliminate the webs of all pretence.

© MarvellousNightmare on Coconut Doesn't Exist
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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