Seima

Snow (a short story)


You heard echoes of an old christmas song tunneling.
“What room is all that spray paint in?” and a haste pause before you answer, for “What did you do to your hand??” You question something red, a skid on the back of Irin’s hand.
 As Irin presents ‘it’ you again hear feint echoes.

You may be a little anxious, but he doesn’t have to know that yet.

You blurt, “I Like you! …I’m sorry if I haven’t been talking much, I just really like you.”

He looks back in an expression you read as confusion, and as you and Irin walk the tunneled hall of the abandoned date spot, you exclaim your anxiety and that you hear things-

“What?..” Irin’s sudden pause makes you even more anxious, and so you hesitate to tell him;

“I can’t go in there.. We’ve made it this far in but I think I hear like… Singing??.. Something’s in the- I don’t know. Please?”

He laughs off your heavy emotion, you both hoping it’ll keep the night fun.

He cranks open a rod-like handle on thin metal door, swooning you in first & lead by curiosity.

Irin follows, and you suddenly feel estranged in the cold.

You turn to the reveal that Irin was a hallucination, and around you spins the idea storm that you need to hide, 

You almost want to, but you begin to shiver…

“Standing Here… I-m So Cold” you shutter, 
“I- “

The cold dries your throat and you swallow your drying spit, humbling your every part in effort towards warmth.

You drag your tired and numbing feet to the window where then, as you gaze through, the numbing with all of its calamities have left your focus.

You begin anew trail in your mind where the cold makes you feel primitive, and unquestionably fearless in your sudden fit to survive, 
or so you would in habit call it a fit…

You haven’t seen something you can prove was there, out that looking glass, 

rather, you’ve been staring inwards the whole time.

-Jacko

unprivatinau daxuja senu dainu ir nauju (beveik visas) nes cj metu muzika

Seima

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