Author: Olavia Kite

The scent of ashes cannot be removed from this house. Soft voices break the silence gently, like a boat on thin ice, like an echo in Antarctica. The urge to strike these keys has hindered my sleeping, thus leaving me here, with the invisible coal and the music. There is so much to miss right now…

If only one of you were here to comfort me, to remind me of the sweetness of rendezvous. However, how can anything be not sweet when one has been chewing on bitter roots all day long? I definitely need to sleep and forget, but my bed faces a window, and tomorrow’s morning sky will be as deep and empty as today’s. The streets are full of new faces, but the fact is I don’t need new acquaintances when I’ve seen so much through your eyes; I retrace your steps and wish I had said this or avoided that absent glance which had left you so puzzled the other day —It was such a sunny day and our conversation seems to have worn out along with that pair of shoes I was wearing —And I wish I had held your hand into the bright sidewalk and told you Point anywhere and I’ll take you there and left you so many more memories than you actually possess—

Your eyes stare at me from that frozen instant, and my arms hurt from all the ungiven hugs, my lips ache yearning for kisses left to decay in the wind… and I realize this loneliness cannot but grow, engulfing what’s left of my crumbling heart.

It was 6am when I stood in my black Chinese pajamas, waiting for him as the lazy rising sun caressed the window sill like a finger gently touching a piano as it walked by. I didn’t know it would be the last time. Maybe it’s better this way; otherwise we wouldn’t have been so cheerful, so full of hope. So many details escape my mind now, I resort to joining many different moments into one huge memory.

How did we end up meeting? It was a sunny afternoon, and we said hello as if we had known each other for a long time. But why? How did it all begin? I can see myself writing and looking at his picture, thinking I might never see him personally, but I cannot trace an origin to this friendship. It doesn’t matter. Whatever led us to this was a miracle, and I’m thankful for all the time we were able to share together. I miss him, yet I know we’ll meet again,… and then we will drink lots of juice, have a movie marathon, walk nonstop, imitate foreign accents and laugh about pretty much everything.

Farewell, my dear; be ready for our next rendezvous! Meanwhile, I’ll drink some Inca Kola in your honor (can you believe it? I still haven’t drunk the last one you brought me!).

My New Year gift was lying on the couch, wrapped in blankets and fast asleep. I jumped out of bed as soon as I’d realized the living room wouldn’t be empty this morning, and, like a child at Christmas dawn, I dashed downstairs.

Not a sound could be heard, save the quiet hissing of air leaving his lungs. I caressed his forehead and cheeks until his eyelashes fluttered like newborn butterflies. Then he looked at me. We smiled. We spoke in whispers, savoring the silence we tore like thin paper.

Happy New Year. Thank you for being with me, for the touch of your hand and your beautiful tranquil eyes.

I’m speechless! I’m so happy! I wonder what’s coming up for me! So many wonderful things to see! Oh my God! Yaaayyyyy!!!

I wish I could write more on the subject, but I certainly can’t.