Singularity

무언가 깨지는 소리

Paris, December 25th, 2021
8:36 PM

« I don't think that you are cursed. »

   In the nonsensical genre, she rather was aviator-who-has-vertigo. She often thought that if she had children, she would first teach them how to fear rather than talk. She was like that since the accident: watchful, a little too nervous, numbed by some scrap of speech heard in the distance. Everything was concerning her, everyone knew, even before the electrical surge left her brain to reach the good muscle, about her next movement.
   This means that, in a game of chess, she could only lose.

« I don't think that you are haunted. »

   Every chess piece on the chessboard of her life, which extended out of sight, was at a well-planned place and, her opponent, him, had the face covered by a she-didn't-know-what. It was a shroud of shadow and light that was separating them, made with a whole but nothing at the same time. As deep as a black hole but as light as a feather.
   It would be sufficient to only stretch the hand to blur this steam that was spoiling her view.
   However, she was too afraid of what could be found on the other side. The secrecy was so terrifying that she already knew how unable to disperse the dense mist she was.
   But she was back in her hometown and there was no doubt that the veil would finally rise.

« I think... »

   In contrast, for him, it only was a question of desire. In the ambitious style, he was a freshwater sailor navigating on a stormy sea. He would teach his children to brave their demons, for sure, would make them swim from their youngest age so that they could join him on his bark. He wasn't afraid anymore, was facing each challenge that life would give him and he transformed it into something beautiful, making sure no one would catch himself into this kind of trouble.

« They aren't the ones sticking onto you. »

   And she was the one tripping in every root of life, not daring to scream, because she was afraid of bothering. Not daring to cry for the sake of saving face. In the highest of the sky, she would smile. Without any pleasure, certainly, but maybe the other aviators would believe that she was fearless this way. Meanwhile, in truth, she only knew that.
   Fear, anguish, the lump in the stomach when she was reminding herself bout those good memories that she only knew how to mess up and which, little by little, were fading away in the limbo of paranoia.

« I mean, your demons... »

   He didn't know anything about the misfortunes of the woman sharing his chessboard; he couldn't see clearly into her. If he could have looked beyond the mist that was dividing them, maybe he would have seen the clarity of her face and her eyes so sad that were flowing black tears, searching for a way to escape on her cheeks.
   Knowing if, yes or no, she was trying to bewitch him, on the other side of the veil of smoke, was impossible.
   It then seemed to him that she was a fallen angel.

« You are the one... »

   She looks down as she walks down the airport. She only sees her feet, only listens to the music in her headphones, and only smells her perfume, her nose buried into her scarf.
   He is more head in the clouds and looks everywhere except at the right place. Of his great height, he doesn't notice anyone. He is just distracted.
   She hears everything, even though she doesn't want to.
   He doesn't understand a thing of what he is trying to distinguish.

« ...who is holding on to them. »

   And this is how, as she bumps into him, and as he was watching anywhere else, their differences intertwined. She left without a word, he looked down at his feet. Discovered a booklet with official aspects, bent down, took it, and opened it.
   In the back of the young woman, a mysterious Kim Taehyung was whispering the name of Alice.

    That's how, in the middle of December, at the time when flowers fade because of the cold of winter, another flower bloomed, on the slabs of the chessboard.

- the sound of something breaking -