It must have been left there some sand on the floor...

The sound of shoes approaching, determined to enter the space, made it painfully hard to listen despite no sign of a newcomer was evident as yet.

If it was just a bad dream then I am grateful that it is over now. But, what about if the presence is still here? What if... the intruder is still here too?

Voices that followed his obvious search for something, seemed to be of a great importance in the void. They appeared similar to a creepy, cheap horror movies I used to watch as a kid. They, the voices, reminded me of the same chilly suspense l desperately waited to be over, same in the lenght, same in the power they trasmitted..

Grabing around, hoping to get hold of something even for a tiny moment I did not suceed.

There it was. Real as much as reality can hold the truth, a long time no see walking mystery. Now it was here again uninvited. A friend of darkness promised by the past to reappear.

"Who are you, who are you ?" I heared myself asking you first, then asking me again.

"Do I know you...? The purpous of your visit...? May I know, for the purpous of the visit, strange creature grayer than the gray itself, why hidding in the dark, behind the light promissing glass window?"

Then I found the wall.

Not that far away, still within the reach of my hand, to be frank, yet not close enough to be reach fast and in dispair... and indeed in a dispair I have been there...

Then... I saw a tiny drop of light through the gap of blinds starting to grow larger and larger as my hands began nervously reaching further through the white I saw out there.

The sound of shoes kept approaching my spaces, like an echo from the past penetrating to my present and never being able to quite make it. None of the newcomer was visible. None.

The light was there already glowing white. I saw it. I recognized it. I did remember it. Even the chair was there...and the floor beneath, unclean as it always was.

Then the light become a yellow blob. The mesh appeared silently afterwards. The blur growing, becoming bigger, covering gradually all my view. The window I stared through made reflections.... The mesh spreading across my sight was real... I knew that.

There was not as it used to be... as It should be. How come all I see now is so blurred gray, colors washed away, views distorted by an an unusual angle not familiar to my knowledge so far...?

How come I can not see the sky blue anymore? Where are the people? Familiar faces, so dear to me?

The sound of birds and insects flying across and up and down outhere made me scared all of a sudden... That was the moment when I became aware of my new identity.

The sound of shoes kept approaching. Now they appeared at the presence of light not so painfully harsh as before. Neither I worried anymore if the identity of the newcomer would be revealed at all.

Then, all of a sudden I realized I did not take them off while entering my spaces, before the beam of light could have lit my eyes a salvation of my self.

Thanks god for the window.

That is in the nature of things.

Bojan Maraz, Bangkok, created 14 April 2013, updated, 22 June 2015

# vimeo.com/64011549 Uploaded 374 Plays 0 Comments

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Small Stories

Bojan Maraz

Each glance, each moment passed by reveals the intention of the person who owns it. Some are conscious, some are not. Hidden in the depth of our collective memory. The true recollection of who we were. A witness of our history considered past by, gone.…


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Each glance, each moment passed by reveals the intention of the person who owns it. Some are conscious, some are not. Hidden in the depth of our collective memory. The true recollection of who we were. A witness of our history considered past by, gone.

Each glance is a constant mixer of the past and the projection of our desires dreams and intentions into the future.

Observing them, capturing them, editing them, revealing them...and here you have small stories.

Join me in small story telling for the sake of curiousity, and sheer pleasure of sharing them with each other.

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