As I did before, I’m not going to talk about books today. What follows is a tiny vision that came to me last time I tried to sit down and write. I jotted this down instead.
I thought it would be worth sharing. Hope you enjoy!
I’m walking along the deserted pier; the sky is covered in leaden clouds. My footsteps resound in the heavy air around me, landing heavy in my ears and in my brain and suddenly I can’t breathe. I want to catch my breath, but I’ve forgotten how to do it.
My chest starts burning. My throat is tight.
My gaze spreads fast, in search of someone, a friendly face that could bring help and solace – someone who could soothe the pain in my chest and teach me how to breathe again, but the streets are empty, as is the open sea in front of me.
A buzz starts low from somewhere I can’t define. From the furthest sky I can see, a cloud rises up. It’s different from all the others, more dense and wriggling with life. It moves closer at such a fast pace, it scares me. I want to run away, but my feet are stuck on the ground.
The cloud gets closer and the buzzing noise gets louder. I quickly realize it’s not a cloud at all: it’s a collection of letters, words, phrases and sentences and they’re all rushing towards me, a cloud of thoughts never spoken and tales never told.
My heart is throbbing loud in my chest. I feel this is my last moment. I am terrified, but slowly manage to bring my mind to accept it. I surrender.
I was wrong. It’s not my last moment.
As the cloud reaches me, it envelopes me in convoluted scripts. Words gather together, floating in the air around me. They’re building sentences and stories I can’t read.
I open my mouth, I want to say something, maybe scream, but I see instead the words and characters floating around me, orderly getting in line and with a rhythmical bounce hopping into my mouth and disappear.
Soon enough, I am filled with them. I am them.
When I wake up, I will be them still.