One Second Before Midnight

I was tired that day. The night before I had been troubled by dreams of Him. We were at war. He marched ahead through battlefields. I tried to catch him but was locked in the distance. Finally I found him atop a grassy hill.  He stood facing away towards the west. When I drew close he turned to me. His face was graven as he handed me a book. His look was without empathy as if already disappointed by my unformed answer. Then I woke up.

It was very early, but I decided to go to work. I couldn’t face the idea of wandering around the house, waiting for a time to catch up. So I dressed in a white collar, and left with the sleep still in my eyes.

I sat looking out the office window. It was confusing to dream of him night after night. Enduring loveless dreams that left me feeling terminal.

Again my thoughts turned to memories that warmed me – our instant rapport, his insatiable appetite for fun, the way he thought he knew me, the adventures we had.  It wasn’t long before my desolation had turned once again to hope.

People began arriving at work.  Slinky wouldn’t be back until tomorrow so I knew it would be quiet. I decided to tackle the enormous pile of new data on my desk. I loved being good at this job. I loved the challenge and efficiency. I always finalized the pile. I was a machine.

Sometime around midday I looked out the window to the blue sky. Was he was looking out at the same time? Was he was thinking of me? Was he waiting?  Maybe if I called this time it would be different?

I checked the clock.  It was morning in Tokyo and he would probably be at work. I imagined him in a suit – even though I knew he didn’t wear one. I imagined his beautiful hands as he picked up the phone. I imagined the warmth in his golden eyes as he answered,

‘Hello, Ardente speaking’

‘Hi, it’s Mira.’ I greeted coolly.

‘Mira!  Fantastic to hear from you.’ he replied

‘It’s nice to hear your voice too.’ my voice rang chilly but I couldn’t cross the bridge.  I could never cross that bridge.

I tried to repair the ungolden silence.

‘I was wondering if you were coming home soon?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact next month.’ he said. 

I could hear his breath through the receiver of the phone.

My heart was pounding – could it be true? Could there really be a chance?  I knew he thought there was more than a chance, not so long ago. I remembered his profession of undying love and wished it had been offered under different circumstances.

‘Are you having a holiday?’ I asked, my voice high.

‘No, I’m coming home to get married.’ he slapped.

My world crumbled but my heart just kept on beating.  My eyes filled with tears and I began to cry.

‘Oh God, I thought you were going to marry me.’ I sobbed.

‘No Mira, I’ve met someone else and I’m going to marry her.’ he said as if talking to a child.

‘Whhhy?’ I was crying uncontrollably now.

‘Because she makes me laugh and we never fight.’ He said.

It sounded like an accusation.

‘But I thought you loved me!’ I implored.

There was silence for a moment as he listened to me falling, then he decided to make the final kill.

‘No, I don’t love you.’ He pronounced.

I set the receiver back on the cradle. My head fell to the desk next to the endless pile of work and the folders and postcards. Tears streamed onto my skirt. I imagined the room filling up and drowning me in tears. Co-workers walked by. I could sense them around me, some reached out fingers but none connected, like I was an island of stone alone in a river.

The minutes ticked by and a coldness seeped into my blood.

I felt the anger breaking. I felt it burn and fill me with darkness. Something in me was changing; I could feel it stepping out.  I didn’t want them to see my fall so I leapt up and flew from the room, slamming my hands against the exit and bursting through with a clang. The door closed behind me and I could see the darkness all around.

A dark wind was blowing on my street. It ran through me and stained me like ink. I felt my black boots, the dark clothes, and black eyes and wings stretched out behind me in fury. I brought the storm.

On the street I collected the darkness. I saw the beggar passed by the mother and the child. The mother cloaked in fine details – her child in miniature. When the child stopped and looked to the man with compassion she was yanked away. Fierce snarling teeth, a backhander for her slight, windows filled with televisions with their brightly coloured ads selling landfill to the lost. I looked under the streets and saw the tar and the sludge and the blackness waiting there. I saw handshakes over the last space. I was desolate. I was filled with infinite sadness. Walking to the beat of my heart, a constant beating hum. And the tears came as I turned a corner and found myself in a garden.

I saw flowers and trees. A butterfly. I was fortunate to catch it. I knew it was for me.

Remember Mira. Remember.

The darkness began to fade.

My vision pieced the veil. I was standing in front of a stone bench. There, carved in granite were 4 monkeys. One covering eyes, another ears, mouth, and the last sat on its hands. Underneath an inscription –

“I am not seeing things as they are, I am seeing them as I am”

And suddenly I understood. The only darkness there was was the darkness inside me.

I began to change.

I drew light from the void through my hands and sent it circling out and a great distance around me. I grew it and soon it spun around like a pale golden cyclone. When it was so vast that it filled the park, I sent it up and I imagined it filling the stratosphere around the planet. And when the light was seamless, I let it fall. I imagined it raining down on the world. On all the hungry children, on the people at war, on all the people in the world and for one moment on the Earth, we all knew peace.