RED
If she tried to list the things she hated the most,
would fall into repetition in the word “walk”.
But she had to walk
Not just in random places
She should also walk to the pitch-dark places in her mind…
Found herself in the bathroom.
What… the.. hell…
The water overflowing from the sink hit her feet.
Looked at her phone, which never stopped ringing.
Friends, relatives, colleagues, lawyers, vultures, bla, bla, bla…
She saw hundreds of people’s faces intertwined in her hand.
Her hand was red and slippery.
Plop!
It slipped into the water.
She didn’t tend.
…
Took only one old backpack with her. Never used, outdated.
Opened it up.
A burn book that hasn’t been touched for years
A fountain pen with a freshly refilled ink cartridge.
A crushed pack of cigarettes.
A lighter whose owner is unknown.
A wedding ring that she could not carry on her finger, could not leave behind and could not throw away.
Took them all.
No need for more.
She took one last look at the dim view of the place she couldn’t even call home.
Her eyes dropped to the ground.
Red.
“wish the living room carpet was blood-red.”
“Wishes” piled up and fell in the middle of the hall.
She left the wishes, red, and the man on the ground.
…
Came across a few acquaintances.
Supposed to say hi to them?
When was she going to start erasing her past?
Right now?
After writing and drawing, scribbling and tearing apart?
Has ever been such a thing as a right moment?
Some people do their calculations quickly and draw wrong conclusions.
She was one of them before.
She hit conclusions to the ground with the back of her hand.
Her brows furrowed, and the self-confidence in her gait held her chin and lifted it up.
She fixed her eyes on a point she looked at but did not see anything and passed by her acquaintances.
She has left a handful of shocks behind.
Deleted them too.
Deleted it before writing.
Could walk until she was tired.
She walked until she got tired.
She would sleep deeply enough to erase all her memories.
Walked into the first hotel she came across.
She put the key through the keyhole, opened the door, and finally got under the bed.
…
Puffed smoke towards the ceiling.
And again deleted everything until she remembered it.
One more puffed again.
Sleep swallowed her, wrapped her in swaddling clothes with maternal affection.
And one more puff again.
Slept before being reborn.
…
Cried to wake up.
Burst into tears.
Screamed at unfamiliar walls in an unknown place.
Smoke deleted everything from the very beginning.
