How frightening your mind games seem to me; fascinating, enigmatic, vibrant.
I tend to always look you in the eyes as you explain the rules to me with that lazy, insincere gaze of yours. I don't recall anything, nonetheless, we start the game as soon as you drink your coffee. My cup is still full, I don't dare touch it, as the fear of you laughing at my clumsiness is looming. You announce the start of the game, however, the only thing I'm able to see is the neon above you. The light, as others would call it.
As soon as the game starts, the fluorescence disappears, leaving behind a decaying shadow. I can't see you anymore. Where are you? I get up from my chair slowly and I feel my hip hitting the side of the table. I head towards the hallway, where I know I'll find you, tying my shoelaces, and I try to turn on the light. Nothing. I fetch one of my shoes and notice the shoelaces untied, just as I'd left them in the morning. Where are you? I search for the switch, I touch it and attempt to turn on the lights. Nothing, again. This time, something is odd. The switches are getting humid. The water inside the vase is turning clearer, amongst small ice crystals. The clock stopped ticking. I feel my breath getting colder and colder. A metallic incense is floating in the air, tingling my nose.
Usually, you would turn on the lights, laughing as you did so, amused by my getting lost throughout the apartment, unable to find you. This time it is different. You aren't here. The lights are icebound by such sorrow and brisk. Not a single sign of life. Just me, endless darkness, and my demons.
Mara Nicolau – XE
ilustrație de Ilinca Maia Gaitan - IXF