She is here, my doppelgänger, and already more of a person than I am. And I? I am fading, fraying, graying, not yet gone but leaving quickly. To where? I can’t tell. That would require definition.

“You shouldn’t be afraid,” she says, pulling a cigarette from a gold case in her purse. She offers me the smoke and waits for the briefest of moments before placing it between her own lips.

“Your loss,” she shrugs, before taking a deep, long drag. Unfiltered. I turn away, feeling a phantom twinge of nostalgia in my undefined lungs, and I sense her eyes on me. She’s playing — she knows I’ve no taste for it anymore.

We exhale simultaneously, and the smoke hangs between us. Did some of that come from me?

“I was saying, you shouldn’t be afraid. Letting go is not the end. It’s becoming.”

You don’t understand, I want to say. I don’t want to be you again, or never, or before. You’re what I wanted to be, once, but now I want to be me. But it’s too late. I haven’t the strength, nor have I been able to speak for a very long time, now. I can only stare at this, my past, my future.

She looks back through golden coils, like the signets scattered before Carthage — a harbinger of doom.

I think, would it really be so bad?

And I know: one snip, one slip, and I unravel. The end.

I turn away once more, trying to ignore the weight of years of want. The sky is dark through the glass, deep and wet. A lost day, a day between days.

What do you do when you want to stop wanting?

tags: ariadne , photo

  • loli

    I am glad this has stayed at the top of the page; I have read it several times now, approaching it in different moods and mindsets which reveal new interpretations like a faceted jewel held to the eye.

    I utterly adore you.

  • harbinger!

    and carthago delenda est, my dear. or, in the words of the punic versian of plautus' play,

    milphio: ponnim sycarthim? ("you remember any punic?")

    acharistocles: bal umer. jadata? ("not a word. what about you?")

    lovely writing, lovely.

  • the question is the answer.

    dear one, you have more wisdom than you give yourself credit for. your narrative of your journey is breathtaking. how clearly you expressed your Self. :) doesn't that say something about how powerful you are? xo

  • Kallese

    You are my muse.

  • Thank you, sweeties. Your comments mean a lot to me.

  • pastilla

    your talent is really quite astonishing . . .

  • This is absolutely brilliant.

    Snapshots, moments, hang time of images and essence like the hang of the smoke.

    My god, I'm amazed.

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