събота, 9 януари 2016 г.


 Your heart is a desert. You watch the New Year’s fireworks with absolute indifference while he's squeezing your hand with childish excitement. You feel nothing. Nothing at all.
“Make a wish,” he shouts in your ear and you flinch. Then you smile, holding tight onto your empty champagne glass. Everybody around you hugs and kisses, the night sky is an illuminated blizzard of tinsels and noise. It means nothing to you. You go back in without him and without making a wish. You walk straight to the bathroom and lock the door behind you. You look at yourself in the mirror- your strawberry blond hair is tied in a knot on top of your head, the black dress you bought last week looks good on your skinny body; but then your mascara starts running, you blink rapidly for a few seconds until you realize you’re crying. What for, you wonder, while your perfect make up is being ruined, what is there to cry for, you ask the silent woman in the mirror, but she just looks back at you with ruby red eyes. It will be months before the disease starts chewing on you, but you are empty as a church, you have scraped out all that you have ever cared for, and so when the disease sits at your table, there will be nothing to eat.You are prepared.

He knocks on the door. “Honey, are you in there?” His voice is a bird song. “I’ll be there in a minute,” you chirp back. You wipe the black paths of mascara from your face, you fix the dress, you take a deep breath and you go out. He hugs you like an old lover. “You know what,“ you say, “I just made a wish.”

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