Singularity

𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦 : 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘶 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘭, 𝟩𝟧𝟢𝟢𝟣, 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴

When on June 5th of the year 1662,
Louis XIV gave a great party in Paris, with a few thousand spectators
came to contemplate the evolutions of the riders.
The show had been so impressive that the place would take
the name of "place of the carousel".

   Alice was taking her time before entering the great Louvre Museum. The place on which she was gave her an excuse herself: it was way too big for her to appreciate its look with a unique glance. So she had been staring at the same beige sand that was flying away by volutes in the air when a kid was running on the great place.
   As she started dreaming about a return to a young age, full of carelessness and happy laughs, she remembered a particularly tiring summer during which her little brother had given a hit into her strawberry ice cream before she even had the time to taste it. She then had run after him, around the rider's statues, then around the great pyramid of the Louvre museum, under the gazes of two loving parents.
   Then, a few years later, this same idiot annoyed her again, so she had run after her. And the year after, then the following one.... as a habit, an infinite loop, that was following the rhythm of the Place of the Carousel.
   Alice was seeing, right in front of her eyes, the evolution of her life, in a chase game that she thought against time, the smile of her parents, infallible, lasting on their aging faces.

And then...

nothing.

Disappeared,
behind a child that was stirring up volutes of sand.
In dust.

   "Adrien?" she whispered, without any strength in her voice.

   She had seen him... She had seen them. Her parents, her brother... Her family. She couldn't possibly believe that she was going so crazy as to see ghosts. But yet, the chronological line that had just scrolled before her eyes had stopped to an image of herself, when she was twenty.

   « Adrien... », she said a bit louder.

   But there was no one to answer her calls, except the echo of a painful past, avoided for so many years. In the background, the joyful screams of young children, attenuated by irregular breaths of Alice. All of this looked like the sounds of old movies on tape. And hers had been set on fire in front of her eyes.
   But there must have been a problem with the film, the camera must have been filmed badly, right? Her family was still there, somewhere, hidden in the bushes of the place, or behind a statue, but they were still here. Just here, near Alice.

   And it was when she collapsed, screaming her brother's name, leaning against the marble of a statue.
   It was then impossible not to notice her. Displaying your emotions in Paris? What audacity. So Taehyung turned to look, just like all the ones that heard Alice. She seemed. breathless, against this stand that was way too impressive next to her huddled body.
   Evidently, he recognized her, the question don't even have to be spoken. The sky of the young man had darkened, and clouds of torments were cumulating, hiding the blue of the sky. And, alerted, he dared to approach.

   His steps became quicker, and he started walking with long strides. Then, after hearing her laugh, he heard her cries. And her crying broke his heart. They were the ones of despair, the ones he knew he could never stop.

   Stopped a few meters only from the woman, he asked himself the question again. Why was she there? Why was she always here?
   She wasn't a ghost, so many people were looking at her...

   He had, by the way, the envy to yell at them to look away, by fear that the beautiful eyes of Alice might still be humid of shame after despair.
   But he came back to his senses and remembered why he made his way to her. He headed towards Alice, the hand holding firmly the passport of the young woman in the pocket of his long coat. And when he arrived next to her, she was already up and stopped him immediately, the hand stretched before him:

   « I'm fine, thank you for worrying. », she held back her tears.

   The young Taehyung couldn't do anything else than stand there, at attention,  as a horse rider, watching the queen walk away. And that's when he finally saw her. He finally saw her swagger even though she was heading towards another hell.

He finally saw her,
when she walked through the doorway
of a new door
and that he lost her
in the crowd.

   And he ran again. He ran again, stirring up volutes of beige sand in which Alice's memories were lost.