Lamp
Posted by Kristina Yenko , Tuesday, June 15, 2010 2:09 PM
Moths fluttered about the little lamps destroying themselves in the light. They followed him with their eyes, as he came and went, without turning their necks for little moths had none. He no longer looked at them. He stumbled on one of the lamps standing on the floor, caught his balance by putting his hands out to the wall. The lamp fell and broke with a tinkle. But there was no room for laughter. His righted shadow stood out indistinctly against the last rows of lamps.
He was not laughing, he was smiling, worlds removed from irony. To his amazement, he found himself possessed by a radiant exaltation. Everything became simple. His anguish had vanished. He began to pace back and forth. In the back room there was only the light that came through the hallway- now livid, as before a storm. In the diffused half-light the bellies of the storm lamps glowed with a curious effect- rows of inverted question marks.
He broke the pieces into more pieces, put them into little orange packets and named them in his head. He felt powerful. The legends were true. I knew them to be so. I too had seen this power within me. But it was an all to common power for him to spend time enjoying or understanding it. Maybe it serves him more than I realize. Once again he realizes how I exist without truly being in his world. I laugh.
To live is to take for granted. To live is to hear but not to listen. To live is to not truly understand or maybe not truly want to understand either.
I sit in front of him, the ground beneath me. But he cannot see me. Voices surround us, flowing, free but anxious, free but nervous. My ears hurt. Is that my fault or his? Are my ties to this underworld so deep it reaches into his very stomach and sends jerks of energy up his spine? How does this happen. It’s the pictures in my head. My fingers and teeth tighten. And in an instant it is gone. I return to the world of ignorance. No harm done, why bother? But this time I must. I reach deep. It was too strong. Why did my power not save me from the moment? Were the legends wrong? I turn away, the new looming sound of a screeching brakes it too mush to resist. My body rushes with excitement and tightens in an instant and I know exactly where to look.
The ears hunt; me and my thoughts and memories define their prey. I understand a little more today, but i knew this already. Like the legends it was something I knew and used in a sub-conscience, but did not have the words to describe. Or maybe I did not want to separate myself from him.
I sat in the darkness next to him until his eyelids closed and became foreign.
