The child was amazed with her new surroundings... for the house of the piano player had numerous rooms with their own separate landscapes - the house by the lake, the sea where he dolphins lived, the desert where he once walked and the oasis that reminded her of the past tense of her future memories. She wandered around the mansion and each door that opened infused her with tenderness that she never felt before. It would stay with her for long as it crawled under her skin and coiled in her sympathetic nervous system... She did not want to grow up but to remain there in the labyrinth of corridors that went it spirals to a point when her head began to spin...
She was standing on a thin line hanging from here to there or from there to here, depending on your point of you. Her hands up in the air trying to balance her steps as she walked slowly towards... towards what? It did not matter. A wise man told her once to fix her gaze on one point ahead and allow the breath to lead her, and so she walked and each step seemed to be making her feel lighter as the coins of expectations fell one by one out of her pockets to the green grass below. The line was so thin that she almost got frightened for a moment that it might suddenly turn into something amorphous and the clearly divided spaces below shall become androgynous.
But do we need definitions? Divisions of roles that we play? Would you like to just play with me without knowing whether things are black or white? Forgetting all that you knew before and allowing me to be you and you me? Closer even than intertwined... liquid, fluid, penetrating those known unknown sides of each other. But where does one end and the other begin?
She fell. Her hands thrown to the sides as the body tried to fight the mundane forces of gravity. The sense of suspension. Body in a moment. What would you do if you could capture the moment of existence and the non- of it with your own eyes? The drop of sweat that already splashed but had not splashed as yet at the same time? Those moments when the real becomes so unreal that you do not know which side to turn your head to.
They sat together at the same time. Divided only by the walls of some fifteen hundred buildings that were given for rent each year. 11 months agreement. 1 month of discord.
He placed his fingers on the piano keys and the fifteen hundred seats hall became silent in anticipation. He raised his hands and as the fell down the strings began to tremble. Her eyes were fixed on a point ahead of her and the steady rhythm of her breath helped her to keep the balance as she walked on a trembling line.
He stood up and the audience began to roar with applause.
She touched the tree.
He was packing his bags after the performance was over.
She looked back and smiled.
I closed the doors of the room on my left side. My head was spinning... so many doors closed and opened... so many walls in between... and yet...
He sat down tired after another show. The nth hundreth and nth fourth in his life. He took off his face off his faceless body and kept it on the hanger. He looked into the mirror. Unable to recognise the image he turned his head away. He shrug his shoulders and his hands dived into his pockets. he felt the cold touch of metal there. He took out a bunch of keys and with an invisible smile closed the doors behind him and threw the keys high in the air.
