FoURtH PaGe

Time is your worst ally. He gives an ongoing and excruciating battle against those things that you’ve built inside you with devotion, against all those things that are unable of resisting and lie defenseless on the blood stained ground of battle. Time takes his revenge relentlessly and turns against your own existence.

He erases methodically the sensuous scents off your nostrils. Those scents that made your heart flap out of joy when they overwhelmed every living cell of your organism. Those scents that used to cuddle you like an invisible embrace, held by the vigorous body of the ephemeral yet invaluable happiness.

Time destroys memories; it corrupts them. It leaves only the remnants of a withered flower that sometime used to deluge your eyes with colour. It leaves you only the faded petals that pretend to be a natural sequence of that which one day used to protect its grandeur of existence with the sweet thorns of it.

Time is a monster that devours the degrading flesh of our pure romanticism. And somewhere there extends the big effort of my mind to capture you in its most unsurpassed basements. Somewhere there every day I set confinements that will be able to protect the white gown of your recollection from the flood.

Somewhere there I hope that noone will precipitate the barred door of all those things that connect us exquisitely.

Koritsa bid me a farewell in a tone of deep melancholy. The earthen streets had fermented with rain and formed a suffocating mud that stalled my departure. The city buildings, most of them abandoned and depopulated, seemed like a perfectly directed scenery that led me towards the loss of my power of resistance.
I barely breathed with my half lung. My oxygen got decimated even more when I thought that this is not enough to reproduce your presence around me. If you were here, everything would be different. If you were here, I might still believe even more strongly in a miracle.

News wasn’t good in general. My next stop: Konstantinopole. Perhaps it was the only place that would be able to accept me besides my own place. But it was also my last but one stop in my short and petty life.