(…)
there’s a piano inside my head that won’t stop its solitary breath, and my work isn’t finished yet, and i feel that it’s still not time for bed. there’s a broken voice inside my head that won’t stop its solitary moan, and now the guitar stops but the song isn’t over. it’s never over. there’s never any good time for bed. i can’t stop shivering when i think about the broken voice, the unfinished song. god’s note, G. i smile. do you want a slow one or a fast one ?
(…)
a few meters in front of me, the street was as empty as if the whole city had died in a second. but where are the bodies ? i said i could run wild in the middle of the avenue, if i wanted to. he laughed and said maybe we should. maybe we should.
(…)
am i disturbing ?
well, kinda, i’m working.
i have a twenty minute walk to go home, she said, would you keep me company ?
i said yeah, of course i would.
so i walked with her, in my mind, while she told me about her day, and she described me the restaurants and menus, people playing cards in a bar, the shop where she buys her cigarettes, what she’d offered to her friend, it’s -4?C outside. i should buy myself a coat for montreal, i said. i didn’t mention my hesitations about the trip. where will i be in november ? where will i be this summer ? juggling with trains and destinations, hopefully.
but i said nothing of it. just that i needed a valid passport for whatever plan in the making, of which i know nothing.
nah, don’t buy yourself a coat, take what you have and we’ll manage.
and i need to be sure that we’ll have enough money for toronto, too, you know how it goes.
don’t worry.
but i do worry. who knows where i’ll go once i’m free ?
(…)
and i can already guess their words tomorrow, their appreciative looks, i can already see their smiles, hear their funny jokes. and all the words that i need and don’t want at the same time. no, it’s not my fault, it’s not me, i didn’t do anything, i swear. they won’t believe me, so i’ll just smile, and put their words in a box for the time when i’ll be doubting.
and now, i almost don’t want to show them the pictures. i can’t help it. because i can already guess their words, and it reminds me when p. said i adore you, and i only wanted to run away. we were in bed, half asleep when the words fell from lips too close to mine. it’s just like j. holding me and kissing me on both cheeks once again, saying you’re too adorable.
and all the times, i just want to run away, just run away.
and one day, i might just do it, i know i might and you know i might…
(…)