Who killed you, my dear?
Who sucked the soul out of your body and left you hollow like a bird’s bone?
Who… who did this to you?

And Then the Windows Failed—

I dreamed that I was dying.

Except that I wasn’t me. I was some kind of convict who wanted to get even with the world. I was a man who had stolen a lot of money, and wanted to donate it to the poor. They wouldn’t accept my contribution due to its dubious procedence, and they said they would only receive the money if I were dead.

So I decided I’d die. How philantropic.

A nurse injected Omeprasol (which is actually an acid inhibitor for ulcer patients) into my index finger. The needle came out at the other side of my fingertip. It seemed I was lying in my own real-life bed. I was scared to death (ironic!), mostly because I wondered how it felt to die. Would it hurt? How would it be when I stopped breathing? Would that be the cause of my imminent death?

Anyway, the night didn’t seem to be coming as soon as expected, so the nurse (who was an incredibly sweet matured woman) injected some more Omeprasol into my arm. I asked her how death would be like, so she made me move a little (I was lying on my back, so I moved towards one side, or vice versa; I can’t remember clearly). She said I was supposed to feel a subtle sweet flavor in my mouth: could I feel it? Yes, there it was. That was a good sign. Indeed it was: I suddenly started seeing clouds moving rapidly in front of my eyes, and my breathing became faster, faster, feebler, feebler—

Until the farthest corner in my mind said: This is a dream.

I opened my eyes violently and found myself in the exact same bed as in my last days as a repenting male thief. The only difference was, there was no nurse lulling me to eternal sleep. The air came into my lungs with the same anguished speed, but it reached further inside my body. By no means was I withering.

You must think I felt thankful for being still here. I did, really, I did. I thought of all the tomorrows awaiting for me, awaiting for this crazy innocent young woman.

But all the hope, and all the fear, and all the grateful youth vanished away as my eyelids slid gently, like dead leaves on running water.

I was asleep again.

To the Gaze of Nobody

Your eyes are like revelations.
Your eyes hold the deepest night and morning sunshine at the same time.