Shadows
It all begins with the dusk, long semi-detached shadows roaming silently quite apart from yourself and vanishing into the broken mirrors. They start haunting you, you venture a step forward, groping for the invisible hand – the gap between you and its realm strangely magnetic – and wait. Then, out of broken glass, out of audible silence rolling ocean-like up to your feet echoes emerge and grow into whispering voices, distant at first, then more and more recognisable, calling out your name, calling you, calling . . . and you make one more step into the dark background behind the mirror frame, into its vast abyss and plunge into the luring waters dragging you far away from this shore to the world of oblivion - lucid, balmy and soft, like newly born woolly clouds.
© Copyright: Татьяна Семёнова Джонстон, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120112208970
Свидетельство о публикации №120112208970
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