She comes, turns to her left and places her head gently on the empty side of an empty bed.
Surrender, that is all one can think of. The word and how she sees through the darkness.
This is what blind people feel like…could she love deeper, live more intense if her visual sense was not there to distract her all the time.
She thinks of a cat five thousand miles away. Has it been fed already or is it lying in someone’s bed right now.
The pieces form a warm dream. A dream that shall be interrupted by several loo breaks, a mobile ringing outside and birds praising the best part of August.
I could have been anywhere. I could have been anyone. Often enough the mind has the power to lift your soul out of your thoughts.
Detachment. Most proclaim they have done as much…yet one cannot be without feeling. I often feel so indifferent about a man’s fate that you can instinctively sense when I truly feel.
I know now what to answer on why I don’t hate them: I will not grant them the honour of any of my feelings. In simple terms… I quite literally do not care.
If you think now this is black and white…then you have never crossed the threshold to any of my care.