Letras
Click, clack, and you drag slowly, then decisively from white to black
It smells of burnt stone, as if your last step had driven heat into the ground, and the path refuses to let you move forward
The air is filled with smoke, rising now, with the next hasty breath, from a crack in the floor
Did you, did you split the field with your impatience?
It crunches beneath you, and small white and black stones break loose from the edges of the widening crevice
They fall into nothingness
No impact.
No clack or clang
No sound at all
Where to move?
The blackness beneath you begins to swim in the smoke
You can’t see your feet anymore, then your lower body is going too
Where to pull, where to step, where without breaking something?
Are you still whole?
Excitement and adrenaline rise in your chest, hammering against your collarbone from the inside
You hold your breath, let yourself be engulfed, merge with the burnt air
No impact.
The fall is uncertain.
You are flying with time, perhaps guiding the direction a little, perhaps you do have some control over a potential ending
You stretch out your arms and legs to glide downward with the wind
The wind brings fewer tears to your eyes
The tears that roll down don’t slide down your cheeks, but dissolve immediately from your face into the air
Sometimes you wish you could catch them, so they could stay a little longer
Now, all of a sudden, you somehow want to hold on to your sadness a bit longer than before
Is this all there is?
What if this isn’t the end?
What if it already ended?
What if I haven’t noticed?
Am I still moving, or has everything stopped and I simply can't tell the difference?
Could I have turned back somewhere?
Did I missed the moment?