Monday, January 14, 2008

the abandoned theatre part seventeen

"Who are you?" says the man now standing next to me.

I start to answer, but then realize that I don't really know. Who am I? The result and sum total of all the memories in the filing cabinet room, all the impressions and feelings of the present, and all the possibilities of the future? Laughter in the sea-wind and sadness amongst frozen branches? Or something else, or something more or less?

The girl in some of the memories in the cabinets would have a definite answer to this question, would give it assertively. But she would overlook some things, the monsters in the shadows, the teeth of ghosts and the fear of an empty filing cabinet.

What can I say? My name, which tells nothing. Where I come from, only the prologue of the story. I can't say where I'm going because I don't know where that will be.

"I don't really know," I reply. "Who are you?"

1 comment:

Mr. Kyle said...

<(-.-)> I can never predict what you are going to reply. :-D