Propped behind the curtains she stares at those streets with fear and longing. She is like the lizard camouflaged under the folds of dusty curtains, the more one tries to shove her the more she hides in the labyrinth of dreary curtains, curtain that dangles like the dead forgotten painting dangling on a wall too wide.
Red head girl , yoga pants woman , secret lover , scared kid and deceiving husband, she knows the routine of everyone strolling on the street , she know those strangers, it is like watching television and everyday new drama unfolds or maybe, her curious eyes weave her own stories to pass those never ending seconds.
Behind her back she still hears the echo of her daughter’s light whispers, a mirage or a reality can’t say the boundary between them has faded like the smoke after rain. Her daughter lives inside the bottomless void inside her heart , dead or alive can’t say. For her today was same as yesterday and tomorrow will be same as today.
She hides from the sun like the newly born pink and wrinkled rats, she sits with her disheveled hair and a brown maxi , train of empty wine glasses decorates her table and she is still sober and alive, indecipherable music from far away rolls in air and caresses her ears lost in the spiderweb.
Her room is dark and no one will ever know she lives there or maybe everyone already knows, at night she will watch the dogs on those ghostly streets , dogs barking on it’s own shadows. Today she will order pasta and then take those red and black pills , pills that will sing lullaby for her. Tomorrow she will wake again in her safe and dark room , safe from the smell of people , rain and sun.
For her today is same as yesterday and tomorrow will be same as today.