She'd be gone for a while. She started her day too early, and it surely wasn't about to end yet. Supposedly, she was to go home and brush her teeth and lather on moisturizers and sleep. Tonight she took off and passed through the mirror.
It was a road opposite the one leading to her flat. Hounds lined the sides, sniffing coins and paper money. Behind her, the lights from the little town sank to the ground. In a sort of sleepwalk, she awoke and found herself in a different land -- ominous, with grass taller than vertical buses, blatantly exposing the darkness it's supposed to cover.
He was there, and they have to do it.
The two walked away, deeper into the grassland, into his den. At the kitchen boils a pot of instant soup and a pan of ground mutton. They stared at each other for a while. The place reeked of sadness and desperation.The same sadness that tied them to each other, tightening their hugs and crushing their hearts. An awkward warmth coats them, thinly.
How do we break this?
She saw her reflection stabbing his. It went on, and on, and on. She, too, died in every stab.
She let go.
I feel profound melancholy in here. Something about letting go of someone or trying to abscond from reality. Nice post you got here :)
ReplyDeleteDangerous territory you're venturing into here, Yohan. I'm terrified and excited at the same time. :p
ReplyDeleteIt's almost like planning a murder-with the killer drowned in his own thoughts and emotions that sometimes he forgets that there's a world out there. It's poignant, and thrilling at the same time.
ReplyDeleteIt's nice how you guys interpreted~ this post. Thanks for reading. :D
ReplyDeleteNyl: I'm curious about what you think this is. Because I think you're right. Haha
I'm thinking (and gawd I hope i'm right) you're experimenting with surrealism. we all have our phases. just try not to get sucked into it completely. lol
ReplyDeleteYou kill me. Ahuhuhuhuhu.
ReplyDelete