Everything is so Perfect

Notes from the Purgatory

You are carrying a huge boulder on your shoulders and walking. Bent but focussed. Bones cracking. Deeply buried veins popping out. You are not Camus' Sisyphus, though.

You have been walking for a long time. It is a deserted forest. An ocean with deep blue waves. A series of mountains, all naked and white.

You say nothing.

Not because you don't want to. But because there is no one to listen to you. It is like an empty chamber; you are continuously walking in. Everything so perfect that it looks unreal. Everything so unreal that it looks absolutely real.

It begins to rain. You get drenched. A fever grips your body. You sneeze and cough, but you continue walking. And then the rain stops.

But you don't.