"She drank herself to death."

The coffee shop all of a sudden felt quiet, quieter than she hoped for. Did everyone all of a sudden listen to her? Did they want to climb into her story and listen, dissect, analyze, and judge? The walls listened as well, but their ears were more sensitive; they knew about pain and being judged for that pain.

"My sister OD'd."

The silence grew louder and thicker, it clung to her skin. It felt like slow dripping wax on her face. The thousand pricking eyes, the judgemental looks, the silence. She looked over her shoulder, she could not look K in the eyes. Nobody. Nobody looked. It was merely the mirror she held up in front of her face that caused the problems. Wasn't it always? When was it ever as simple as that?

Loud drumming in her ears deafened her in a sudden flush of anger and shame. This was her life, her fate. Stuck in a loop she did not choose, a destiny with only one outcome: an uneventful death.

She looked at K in the silence she felt in her head. His features lured her in and his mind was a chaotic abyss in which she felt a strange comfort. He hid something, she knew. A mysterious auro hung around him.

Did she see him as a therapist all of a sudden?

The loud thudding and drumming in her ears ceased but sounds did not flood her mind. It was still a quiet place. She was alone in her world.

"I feel like this is my fate." She smiled. He listened.

An answer is missing from his mouth. She hears nothing. The empty coffee cup is the only comfort she had. She traces her finger around the lip of the cup, around and then counterclockwise. And around again. The smell sickens her for a moment and she feels the need to get up and walk away from the situation. Like a sudden crashing wave, the veering away from her normal pathetic life felt strange and uncanny. She felt odd in her own skin. From whence did she follow this philosophical nonsense and since when did she draw pictures on paper and call it art? What happened to her? She felt like a prisoner in her own skin, she felt the need to jump out of it. But nothing happened. She sat in front of K and wondered if he will ever reply.

His silence felt like a rock she could not move. She felt like the rock that could not move. Her skin felt heavy, nothing made sense. Yet, she felt like this was her path now. She tried so hard to steer away from the fate she knew she had to live out, but now she seemed to embrace the swerve, the difference in her life. The old addictions felt... old? The new ones felt different, strange. The philosophical questions in her mind numbed her, it became new addictions. She wanted to decipher what this man in front of her meant. She knew he was important but how and in what ways she needed to find out.

He smiled.

His smile seemed to correspond to her thoughts. Could he listen? She knew this was nonsense, she knew he could not. Yet, she felt not alone in her own mind. She felt his presence.

Postscriptum

The metaphorical Sisyphean rock we need to roll up the hill with the fake smile we adopted is something we all need to face once in a while. It is a cage we cannot break out of, like the poor little bird bought at the animal shop. But we need to roll this rock up the hill until it breaks the cage open for us and we can escape.

The story is hopefully headed in that direction. I wonder if she will ever find out who and what K is. Maybe in the ensuing chapters/modulations!

In any case, I hope you enjoyed this modulation.

Happy reading, and stay safe!

All of the writings are my own. The photographs used in the post are also my own, taken with my Nikon D300.