Living in a quiet and slow dust storm, I wonder if I am moving at all. Just as I approach the wall, it becomes dust and so does everything else.
What makes me thirsty? Is it the sound of future, my desire to see it or the knowledge of nothing? Sliding, swaying, fumbling I reach a well and quench my thirst happily.
Often a friend guides me, though, who borrows memories from whom isn’t clear to me as of now. But I am sure of my useless attempts to gather the dust after it is all gone.
Standing still I come across a sea of mirrors, I choose one and take the place in front of it. I tell myself I am ready to take the dive, the mirror repeats my words and then without a sound or any movement, I turn into dust.
Mo: It is Pip’s. (BEAT) Have you been drinking a lot of coffee?
Lucille: I have been advised to.
Mo: That doctor friend of yours is a nut case.
A pause.
Lucille: I can’t believe it? Are we living in… this is ridiculous?
Mo: What is?
Lucille: Haven’t you read today’s newspaper?
Mo: Ah! I don’t read newspapers anymore.
Lucille: Why?
Mo: For peace, darling.
Lucille: Peace… yeah, right.
Mo: Wanna piece of it?
Lucille: Piece of peace? What are you…
Mo: The carrot cake… what’s wrong with ya Lucille?
Lucille: O! Yeah, sure. (EATING THE CAKE) Whatever is happening, it hits everyone… directly or indirectly I mean… it hits everyone.
Mo: Hmm! This place has the best cakes in the world.
Lucille: I love it here! (BEAT) Is there any hope?
Mo: Hope? Hmm… there is always some hope… that’s what is dragging us, you know, ya.
Lucille: Dragging us you say…
Mo: Of course! I mean come on, where is “hope” leaving for? It’s not in any rush like us, I… I hope. Gosh! (BEAT) I feel a bit eerie today, I don’t know why.
Lucille: No really? No, it’s lovely today.
The grey weather outside changes into black and the wild dancing winds start to pour heavy rain, the clouds roar loudly declaring that they too have read the sad newspaper. Lightning hits a tree and its huge branch breaks and falls.
Mo: Storm’s here. Is it still lovely for you? Lucille!
Lucille: What? Hm? Yeah! But listen, where did you park the car?
Mo: Why? Under the tree. But why?
Lucille: Now it is literally under the tree, crushed I suppose.
Mo: What! (GETS UP) O, no!
Lucille: Wait, try some strong coffee, you’ll feel better and hopeful.
Mo: Wa… Lucille, you’re crazy!
Mo leaves hurriedly.
Lucille: Mo! Pip’s umbrella!! (PAUSE) I think I hit a nerve there… but black coffee works wonders… I can’t do without it… especially after reading the newspaper.
Arched perfectly in peaceful white/
Talking rarely via windows and hanging lights/
With those who look up.
Greetings!
A storyteller, following the ancient tradition of cave chroniclers, standing in vrikshasana (the tree pose) on a hill top (it is sunny, but windy), breathing in and out stories (relishing it all, but at times overwhelmed), declares animatedly that she will continue to – tell stories, share rare story gems, and connect with the pacy universe while also keeping the website ad-free.
Big thanks to my readers. Stay tuned!
Also, a humble request to the new subscribers to check the spam folder after subscribing. Silly (but necessary) confirmation emails often land there instead of the bright inboxes. Merci!
Ya-hoy!
Chiming Stories (formerly Home Chimes)
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