Marks of burning cigarettes on the carpet, lots of empty bottles on the floor, surrounded by crumbs of what was left of some cheap fried snacks... their smell mixed with the stink of beer and vomit... "they're all gone now", she thought, "they've gone away". She was feelin' lonely and she was fuckin' high... "gosh, whutz this smell..." All of that was too depressing, all of that was just too much for her alone... alone. She crouched and started rockin'... then stopped; she looked around - all that dirt, all that bare truth, the window half-open, the moonlight as her only light... and a small piece of broken glass shined at her. Draggin' her body forward she grabbed it, her shakin' hand becoming red... cold... "but it'll get colder", she smiled sadly... Taking her out of her drowning dreams, the doorbel rang. She stopped at a sudden; silence; she waited, frozen, still crouched on the wet dirty carpet; it rang again, more strongly - an old sound from a distant and brighter past... She swallowed the air, her dry lips half open savoring it. The doorbell rang a third time, and only then a voice called, but the words were incomprehensible to her; she dared asking, in her usual shy manners, 'who is it?', almost sounding like it would rather be a mirage than anyone at all.
[05/04/10]
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