Myth of the Rebirth - at Arthaus

 Pre-ambule


Feathers floating, sparks, time is at a standstill. They are in motion, settling down into the half-formed egg on top of flames. The egg sets, shedding, until it opens its wings.

Story

It must be a discomforting position to be in. He turns and stretches one side, then the other side, as though attempting to expose more skin on the side, more lung surface area. His slumber is fitful, but as his breathing deepens and slows, he sinks into his bed; he looked almost comfortable. 

It was time. 'Come.' The guide took him by the hand.

'But I just got comfortable!' He had spent so long trying to be comfortable, and finally he was. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to move anymore.

'You don't want to miss out on this.' She knew he had to journey, and what better way to convince a voyager that there was another voyage ahead? 

Reluctant, he stepped away from the warmth, towards her. Her wings enfolded him into the darkness, and took through a tunnel. He was on the railway tracks, balancing, existing somewhere in between. He saw the platform, and he wanted to be there, and he was there. Time was irrelevant, where he wanted to be, he was. And as he stood on the platform, he saw a train go by. He could not see anything in the train - it was too quick. Next, the bus pulled in and away, and he could make out barely just behind the window, the face of a man. But it was raining, and the rain covered the glass, and melted the man's face, and soon he was also water droplets, falling, falling. He became droplets of rain through the sunshine, drizzling down on the tracks as time stops, as everyone stares off into the distance, waiting for the oncoming lights. An old man sings Sinatra on his keyboard by the staircase on the 103rd. 

A pavilion stood at the end of the tunnel. Bits of the darkness from before on the side. Don't look. And he didn't look. What struck him were the people ranged out before him, sitting on the stands at different levels, all staring at him. He went forward, closer, he wanted to make sure - 'You're from 301!' 'No, 306.' He was shocked. He tried again. 'You're Alex! From TJ!' Silence. It was wrong. It felt wrong. It felt like the glass had tipped and was travelling towards the floor. In that moment, everything froze. The darkness on the peripherals crept in, they never tire, the abyss. There was a brittleness in the air, and something was about to break. 

In a moment, everything shattered.

An avalanche of rocks, stones, pieces of the pavilion, and darkness rushing in. A frenzy. Suddenly, we were out of time. At the last hour, when it was make or break, the chaos expands, threatening to fill the space, promising to take over everything, to completely rend a being apart. Him, a being, had only one choice, the choice to will everything back together. And so he did. With all his might, throwing nausea away, he re-focused everything back together. 

Everything refocused. But still, it was wrong. As though the pieces of the jigsaw were ill-fitting. As though there were some pieces of the cracked mirror that were the same size, but placed in a different part of the whole. Like there was a mosaic tile that was just a little off from the rest. Unplaceable. 

Her job done, the guide prepared to leave. His journey was complete. For now. 

'Wait, did I do something wrong?' He yelled after her.

She wasn't sure if it was in her to spell it out, but he looked earnestly lost. She should give him something to chew on. 'You were supposed to do it with them.'

They were still at the pavilion, but further away. There was more distance now. Trees lined the side, although it looked like a barren wasteland. The trees caught fire. As the leaves burn and sparked and fell, they coalesced together and became the sun. And one of these rays shot out and hit his right eye.

It was time for him to rejoin the living.

Published on
8/6/20 9:52 AM

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