Counting Sheep

After lying in bed for over an hour trying to fall asleep, I decided I’d attempt the famous ‘sheep counting’ method. I closed my eyes and tried to visualize sheep jumping over a fence so I could start my descent into wonderland. However, I soon found I just couldn’t do it. No sheep appeared and the fence was left untouched. I opened my eyes, and gazed into the darkness that enveloped my room. My eyes were tired, so I closed them once again – this was it, second attempt. This time, though, something incredible happened: instead of sheep on a lawn, I was seeing a vast and deserted icy land, when suddenly a penguin flew right before my eyes, accordingly I counted: one. Then, so many penguins started darting before my eyes that I couldn’t even count them all. If this was supposed to get me to sleep I doubt it would work as I was feeling flustered for not even being able to count a few penguins, so I eventually just watched them zooming past me, back and forth they went, slowly rocking me into a slumber.

Sometimes, having a clear destination in mind is all one really wants.
(photo taken at Lake-Bled's train station, Slovenia)

Amongst Fish

I was in an aquarium. Glass surrounded me and people were constantly walking past, peeking in curiously, sometimes they would wave goofily. The other fish in the aquarium were all different from one another: some were of a completely different species yet we all got along with each other, even if it meant not talking with each other, or establishing eye contact for that matter.

I was concentrating on what was in front of me: some stones shaped like hearts when, suddenly, I was interrupted by the waitress:

‘The usual coffee, dear?’

‘Yes, please. Could you also bring me a glass of water?’

‘Sure thing.’

A friend of mine walked past the cafe, looked in, spotted me, and waved. I waved back and hoped he wouldn’t come in and expect to chat. I really wasn’t in the mood. In fact, I really wished I were a fish so my memory would only last three seconds, because then I wouldn’t have to remember what happened last week. I still couldn’t believe I had acted so immaturely. I feel myself blush every time I think of it.

He walked in. I sucked it all in and smiled.

‘Hey,’ I said smoothly.

Some secrets are best kept secret

My grandmother was sitting next to me on the sofa. She had on a blouse that had belonged to her great-grandmother. It was an amazing item of clothing – not only because it had been in the family for so long, but because it had an impressive jewel encrusted on one of the buttons.

We sat there calmly talking about her 80^th birthday which was only 8 days away, when lo and behold the jewel seemed to gain a life of its own: some type of smoke started being secreted by it and it slowly rose into the air in front of her, held on to the blouse by one of the threads which had bolted it down for so many years, and just hovered there.

My grandmother was so excited, telling me about the lunch menu that she didn’t notice it straight away, but she saw my gaze, awe-struck as I was, my eyes glued to that magical rock. She stopped speaking and glanced down at her blouse. Her eyes opened wide, before she swiftly knocked the jewel away with her hand. It fell immediately to the floor and the smoke extinguished itself.

‘Gran, what the hell was that?’

‘Nothing you need to worry about for now my dear,’ she said calmly. Too calmly.

Stranded

It’s a rainy morning,

yet you’re waiting there.

The wind blows your long

and flowing hair

into your beautiful face.

You don’t move it.

You just stand there,

grasping your purse.

Your dress and cardigan

flow in the wind,

but still it doesn’t bother you.

Who are you waiting for?

Why are you so lonely?

Who would leave you

stranded like that

in the middle of a puddle?

I look into your eyes

and realize it’s me you’re staring at.

Do I know you?

You lift your hand,

as if a ghost, not quite there,

and wave.

‘Hello’ the wind whispers in my ear,

and the rain plants a kiss on my lips.

‘Hello’.

Mad Girl’s Love Song

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

Sylvia Plath 

(h)ear

Once upon a time a young girl was looking out her window. She could see her neighbours, as well as hear them, even though they were separated by 200 meters. No, she couldn’t read lips and no, she wasn’t just making up their conversation, she could genuinely hear the words they were pronouncing.

Her parents didn’t understand how this could be, and thought that maybe she was special, and that they might be able to get some money out of her ability. They took her to various doctors, but they only checked her ears and her brain, and could never find anything abnormally wrong, or right, with her. So for the time being, she was just a girl with extremely good hearing. Her parents, however, didn’t believe this was it. In fact, the whole affair started to annoy them as they never had any privacy with her in the house. Their daughter was also not happy and would frequently be bothered when her parents were clearly trying to whisper to each other, but were, in fact, speaking so loudly she could hear every word of whatever blasphemy they were going on about. This made her parents feel self-conscious with anything they said, and just walking around the house became a burden. The poor girl had tried everything, from getting reinforced glass windows to earmuffs and super insulating headphones to no avail. 

After some time dealing with this “impairment” her parents took her to another doctor for a full check-up. The results weren’t good: she had tuberculosis, hence her improved hearing. Her parents were saddened, as it finally dawned upon them that their daughter was normal, or rather, even worse, their daughter was extremely sick, and all they had thought of was how they could get money out of her ears. The mother had noticed her getting increasingly thinner, and her constant fatigue, but thought it was because of everything she had to deal with, what with having to listen to everything everyone around her was saying. This upset her and her husband deeply, but the girl was happy she finally had an answer to her ailment and could see peace and quiet at the end of the tunnel: no more listening to her parents’ intimate conversations, her neighbours’ incessant arguments, all the animals in the garden chirping and grunting, even the falling and landing of the leaves from the trees in the garden.

The next day she started taking the antibiotics and, as if taking placebo, she immediately felt better, regardless if she would be taking those drugs for the next 6 to 12 months or not. She was finally happy and on the way to being normal again.

She looked out the window in her room, observed her neighbours: they were quietly sitting on their sofa reading. Everything was calm. ‘Soon, it will always be like this... and I just can’t wait!’