Memories III

[November's Dream - November 2006]

Incense (II)

Incense (I)

She got back home still recalling a crystal clear picture of what had just happened that afternoon. It was fleeting and electric just as everything else she still treasured in her memory related to him. His words still echoed; though she couldn't really decipher if those words belonged to that recent present or to the past. That particular mixture of feelings took her to her room... between all the pieces of her past she kept in the second drawer she found the box of incense bars like a bookmark in a notebook. There were still two bars left. She read as the last bar but one of "Esence Of Lust" burned down...

Many days I woke up and stare at some random fix point. I never need to switch on the light because, most of the times, when this happens it's around eight in the morning and sun creeps through the lids and curtains. Sometimes I don't know if I'm still here or maybe I left somewhere else unaware of it. Sometimes I don't know if I'm alone or not. Usually, if I'm alone, five minutes later the cat comes and, if not, if whoever sleeping by my side came just for some kind of affection he would maybe turn around and touch my face or ask me something; if he doesn't speak English I will probably kiss him and fall sleep again. But if who sleeps by my side came looking for something purely physical he will feel guilty, he will think about his life (his wife, his children, who knows) and he will leave. He may say sorry. But I'm sorrier, always. Not so long ago I became selective and gain a touch of psychologist. And if it's him who sleeps by my side he will realize that he's again with me and that, even though he wouldn't admit it, this is the only place where he has felt this way during the last two years. I've never made him pay. I will never do so. Weird enough, anytime I stare at that fix point in some distant space it happens to be him who sleeps with me. I hold his chest always. Anytime he comes here I write here and think a lot of life, this life. Once he told me it was a pity he couldn't love me; he said that thinking I was sleeping but just my eyes were close.

She left the notebook in the bed. She stared at the incense bar, the hidden incandescence with which it burned down turning into smoke and ashes. It has a finite life, just like everything does.

When the incense finishes it all turns to ashes and smoke. A scent that covers it all, that clouds up the objectivity through which I see the present now colouring it with feelings of the past. Even with all these windows closed, just with the air that filters through their tiny borders, smoke would end up vanishing and disappearing. It's funny that a simple incense bar sums up so many things. It's normal that this bar still burns though time has gone by, it's pretty normal that this scent still works as a time machine for me. This incense, this scent, has an hypnotising power over me. But from this intensity only come ashes and smoke. The smoke surrounding me, the dreamy air that vanishes.

"We can't change anything anymore. It would be worthless".

Shaina

...if a woman knight is seen without her mask by a man she has two options: kill him or fall in love with him...