Ξεχώρισα αυτό:
υπό φυσιολογικές συνθήκες...
εγώ ξέρω πως η μουσική
που ακούω στο στήθος σου
αλλάζει συνεχώς μελωδίες.”
Once upon a time there was Mark and his girl.
He was born blind.
She used to construct his reality through sounds.
Every Thursday they would ride the train to the centre of Dunfermline just to listen the rain pouring.
On the way back, she would hold him in her arms and make fun of his nervous heartbeat.
He never liked the word “heartbeat”.
He preferred saying “heart – tick” [because] he reminded him the only childhood memory he had; a small alarm clock.
When he was lying down, she would open the window to let the traffic in and murmur him stories about the people and their rush.
He would always describe the traffic noises as “a violent heartless drill“.
Even when he was taking a shower, he would describe the water as a rapid hiccup.
One day, she heard his footsteps on the floor, but they were different than other times.
That time, they were bored, almost yawning one could say. He entered the room, sat next to her, held her hand and told her to close her eyes and shush her mind.
He pulled a gun out of his jacket pocket and shot himself in a clumsy way.
She started screaming and fell on him crying desperately.
He then said “I’ve seen everything. I’ve even seen you. My girl. My lil’ hiccup. High heels and hoodies.”
And then...the alarm sounded.
( And for your own information, that girl never really had a name. However, he used to call her junior. )
[ αηδίες, ξέρω. πειραματισμοί. κάποια στιγμή θα λυθεί. ]