pandemonium † muke [en-slow updates]

9 (milliseconds)

The red stain is walking slowly outside. Diffused. Confused. I have no idea if it's even walking. But it's certainly moving.

It's moving slowly. 'Un-fast'. Around the cube.

Around my cube.

Around my space.

Around me.

My head is following its moves.

The stain coming and going.

Sliding a finger in the so-called transparent glass that surrounds me.

The stain takes the frost away with its finger. Cleaning it. Leaving me a tiny line to look to what's outside. But I can't see what's outside.

I can't see what's outside because my eyes are stuck in the red piece which is still in its way. Until it stops, right in front of me. Still not showing more than a line.

Throught that transparent line I can see its arm, I can see a plaid red and black flannel sleeve. I can also see the darkness behind it.

The dark.

Darkness.

Darkness.

Darkness.

But that darkness is nothing compared to what I'm feeling.

Here inside.

Here.

Right inside of me.

Then, the stain takes its finger out of the glass to start drawing again upwards.

Drawing.

No, not drawing.

It's writing.

'Trebor', it writes.

But, from the inside, I read 'Robert'.