May 23, 2005

past revisited, past revised.

She was sick of it. Sick of waiting half an hour for the bus. Sick of walking home in the cold. Freezing, kind of drunk, though she didn’t even have much. A beer, a glass of wine. Still.. she wasn’t a wine drinker and she knew it. Bad mistake. Getting old, she thought.
She did want to meet people she liked. But at the moment she was more comfortabke at home. In fact, it was the only place she was safe. In her own cosy little cave. Exposing herself to the world wasn’t good. No good.

She used to like pubs and bars – a lot. But that seemed so long ago, while it was only yesterday. Alcohol in her thoughts and nicotine in her lungs. One could have that at home too... no feeling for it. So why then. A cigarette shared with her bed, a glass of orange juice with her computer. No alcohol. No drugs. No good.

No idea what had happened, but when she had seen her reflection in the elevator mirror, she had known: Stricken with tiredness - though she had slept for a hundred years. Dark shadows under her eyes. Snow in her hair becoming wet and streaky. Looked at her phone and wanted to talk to someone. But couldn’t to all the people she meant something to. She couldn’t even talk to herself so she turned the phone on mute as well as her life.

Alone with demons. Not facing them in the poorly lit room, couldn’t even see them, dark as it was. They hid in the shadows and spoke soothing words that calmed her body, but not her soul, which answered with songs no one could ever hear.

When she had finally dimmed the lights, finally fallen asleep, her demons were awake, watching over her so they could not miss her waking up.

Coffee, more nicotine. Hunger but no need and strenght to eat. She would be sick anyway. Out there and wandering, left the car in the garage for it was what people called a nice morning. She felt obliged to take a walk in ...that nice weather. Sun caressing her hair. Filmstar-feeling. Unhappines included.

(c) ophelia


Anonymous said...

very nighmarish, dark and cold. It's good. loved to read it. maked me feel uncomfortable, and this means it's powerful cuz it's not a very long story...

Anonymous said...

piece of a puzzle.... sends you looking for a fitting piece