Priscilla, priscilla

Priscilla

Priscilla was standing head up to the cafe counter in front of her. The pungent smell of coffee was refreshing. She needed to try something new, every new month or so. While browsing through the menu displayed overhead, her attention was caught by a man. The customer in front of her turned slowly to face her. Staggered, she troubled her mind with thoughts such as: "Why is he looking at me? Did I put too much perfume? Does my makeup look funny?"

The gentleman with a black handbag drooping over his right arm introduced himself to her. They talked for a while and I could sense the awkwardness from their interaction, then they sat on the seat, next to the window. She was drinking the coffee he got her, a black spice latte. I felt uncomfortable watching them, watching her with another one. She suddenly got up, headed to the washroom, and displayed her galore outfit — a black fur top paired with a short slim-black skirt. She knew how to present herself, a full meal course she is, I thought.

Following her was the poignant song of her black heels caressing the floor. What a melody... Meanwhile, the intruder kept eyeing her down while displaying perverse smirks towards her. I blatantly hit the table in an impulse and everyone stared at me, including him and I went away, to get a clearer spot. He then went to pay the addition and left the place.

When she came back from her bathroom leave, a suitcase was waiting for her at her seat. On top of it, I wrote: "Sing your melody, but keep to yourself". Intrigued she was, but she didn't mind my act, she left everything sitting there and was gone all over again. I couldn't lose her again, I wanted to know more about her, be there for her, establish contact, she was alone and I was too. Lonely people hang together.

Days went by, I studied her, knew what she ate for breakfast, what products she put on her skin, the long and tiring hours of watching her get ready, how good she was with her flute, a flute made of quartz. Hmmm..she looked at it closely every time with passion, before blowing through it. She was entertaining, I dreamt of her looking at me the same way. She played intently and transported herself in another world, whenever she got a hold of it.

I felt peculiar — everything changed and was changing — about what she was doing or rather what was happening. In this place, I could reach to her, as a comforting resonance, a soft-voiced ever-present tune with her. Because that's what I was. Odd, but beautiful fairies were drawn to us and danced along the way. Concentrated on her art, she hadn't noticed the piece she was presenting or perhaps, she was attempting to reach a precise objective. Her tone changed abruptly, her joyous intermittence turned to a dull desolation and I got scared. The unknown and mystery of what was happening stoked me. What surprised me, even more, was her stillness, she seemed conscious of what was happening.

Everything went pitch-dark, the music stopped. Strange sounds were traveling around, and I lost touch of her. I was alone in this black world. No fairies were there, I screamed in panic and only drew more of these threatening sounds. I couldn't grasp what they were, but it was nothing I ever heard before. The sounds were getting closer and closer, a flash sparked and I could see her silhouette walking across that path. I tried to reach her and shouted out: "Priscilla Priscilla, wait for me! Priscilla, Priscilla!" She stopped a moment and turned to me. For the first time, our eyes met each other. It didn't last a second, but it felt like time was frozen and I felt good. But, then continued her way. The light was vanishing the closer she got from it, I tried hard to get to her and I did. Too late though, she left me here, in this darkness. The scary sounds were raging to me and I was fighting them until I heard for the last time her melody in my ears. That was the last thing I heard in the end. Priscilla, Priscilla... An obscure melody.

She was empty inside. It was known in town that she traded her soul a while back in exchange for a quartz flute. As simple as that, her soul fell from her body. Leaving behind a void, in her existence. It — the flute — was said to be worthless and nothing more than an ornament she'd bring with her anywhere and played with it in an attempt to fill her void.