The following article was published in N-SPHERE August 2010 issue.


Every day, rusty scales in front of him, he offers silent prayers to the indifference of the passersby. Be it sun or rain, heat or piles of snow, you’d find him there, cursing the other side of the worldly mirror.

“You’ve forsaken hope, you’ve abandoned faith. Alas, the ferry man doesn’t hear you, and as you swim across the Styx, carve incandescent truths on rotten skin, under eyes vacant of pity, and resonate the thousand heart beats you carry like a beautiful sin.” “I actually hid my secrets in the flight of blackbirds. Do they move around just the same? Or did sloth take hold of them? Nevertheless, do you like this?” “As much as I like the one who prays all day for nothing. But if you can describe the unseen geometry in the sky, I might just favor the interlude of flowers, feathers and decomposed worms you prepared for our guests.”

They played with their tiny totem bones, drawing the future, drawing the past, mocking the present, twisting the timeline as they saw fit. To an end not even them knew. A drop of poison in their ears and once again they let unspoken pain consume whatever it was left of them.

“Just for once, for a damn once in this shithole, can I desire something without the necessity to justify the need?” “No. It’s much more spectacular watching your desperation. Almost inspiring. You’d make a fine comedian… And if you add the final touch of a blind tear, we will all be astonished by your performance. Isn’t this what you have always wanted? To reinvent the awe of the lame and lost spectators. The recipe of real success.”

“My shy friend, you have been captive since the very beginning.”

by Bahak B

artwork by Vel Thora

Full article here.