-- `It could be the end of the line or a new beginning. Whatever my destiny it is cloaked in shadows when not drowned in fog. The past is the future, the future the past, and the present is mislaid. I am losing control, pursued by the Furies and surprised by my urges. Whenever I manage to steal some sleep I am woken by the old nightmares.'
Here and There
I am a different person every day. I fought for that. I'm here and I'm there. Just to find you. I thought you'd be waiting for me. Do you hate me instead? Or do you just not remember? Is all I have the piss emptiness of these early morning hour walks in cities whose names I do not care to remember?
The gates of Hades are opening, Eurydice. But do not fear. Since anything that burns at a high temperature is made pure. A damned purity all your own.
- ‘ The only purity I know is the law of kill or be killed.’
- `What is your name?'
- `I am -- just a passenger, like you.'
- `Are you going far?'
- `As far as I need to.'
Rails disappear to a vanishing point in a dark tunnel ahead. Then the darkness envelopes the carriage, silencing the exchange. The train emerges out of the other side. One of the seats is empty. The other is wet with blood.
Her inherited noctambulism is a calling of sorts she shares with her father. Also the perfect cover, and excuse, for her actions, whose culpability she is able to consign to her waking dreams.
Distanced from everything, a pane of glass between her and the world sliding by outside, she is half-conscious that happiness can only be constructed out of the things within one's reach. But then religion has played its role in her life. And religion can make even good people do bad things. Her own father is the proof and she is her father's daughter.
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