A Mind Beside Itself I [AM thoughts...]

He turned back… nobody was behind him. He was alone as he had always been. His fauxhawk hairstyle was too fancy in that creepy and condemnable situation: he had lost his favourite and only hat and the girl he runned away from had still in her left hand that signed ten of hearts. He knew it.

As he was recovering from the run he couldn’t stop asking himself why he forced his favourite card and why he made her sign that black-backed ten of hearts and suddenly the answer appeared in his head. She told him her name some days before and he couldn’t remember it. How could he possibly know more than 100 ways of revealing a card (of which only 10 where the ones he commonly used) and not remember this girl’s (in which he was interested) name?

Why was he so afraid of showing her a fucking magic trick he had practiced for some months now? He knew that trick couldn’t fail. Every single technique, misdirection, word and timing was well practiced. What could possibly go wrong? Every detail was on his control (or so he thought).

This brainstorming moment lasted for a couple of minutes, but in his mind it had lasted some hours and he returned to reality as soon as he realised a gentle rainwater drop hit his right cheek. “What the…?” Turned slowly his head to the sky and saw a bunch of depressed-coloured clouds and he felt it: her right hand in his left shoulder. He turned around and their eyes crossed for a second… He slowly approached to her face, to her arms, to her skin and started this magical fusion of two souls in four arms and one hug… but she vanished…

“God damn it!” He murmured while the signed ten of hearts was falling off from a hand-shaped cloud of smoke…

~ por hanselmilart en Junio 11, 2008.