I wasn’t falling. The world was falling away. And as the world fell away I saw further and loved deeper than I thought possible. A cleverness that was off putting I gained from the distance; a clarity of prudence I gained from the depth. And it was there, as the world fell away completely, and the chaos became a faint roar in the distance that I found myself.

His face, my face… was wearing a glaring smile, and was marred and aged, yet those eyes… so piercing, so soulful, so young.
His body, my body… was littered with lacerations and bruising; all the wounds lay open with not a stitch to be found or any signs of healing, yet he grabbed my collar with the strength of a general.
His hands, my hands… were calloused and rough; my eyes fixed on a single deliberate scar that I did not recognize.

His eyes followed mine to the scar and slowly he sighed. Tightening his grip and with such grace and control, he-I, pulled me close and in the most gently gruff voice I had ever heard he whispered, “stay the course.”



My eyes closed out of relief, for those words incited such calmness and as swiftly as I was there, I am here. Those words merely an echo, a new feedback loop within me, a new piece of evidence to answer the question;
what is the question?



I look around, hoping to see the man; his tunic would stand out among the suits. I see nothing, yet everything, as if all of space-time is swirling around me. The faces of passersby seem drowsy behind their smiles. I reach out to touch one of them, hoping to still them long enough to tell my sister or brother that I love them, yet I am myself stilled by a warming sensation that falls over me as the sun peeks out from behind a cloud. I seem to be the only one to notice; the faces keep marching; where do they think they’re going?

I scream at the top of my lungs. Not a flinch in the crowd; their eyes remain focused on something I cannot see. I frantically scream again unsure as to why I am so scared for them. Nothing.

From behind me I hear a snickering. I turn, hoping… Well, I don’t know what I wished to find… just something… something real… There, sitting in misplaced rocking chairs on the sidewalk, perch an old couple. Their laughter ceases, and it is replaced by smirks. The old man whispers in his wife’s ear, and she takes his hand as he readjusts himself. They begin again to rock in unison. Silently, the woman points to something behind me.

I tilt my head, puzzled by their very existence, and look to the old man for more, anything more. His smirk grows the way old men’s smirks do when they guide the young, and without moving his lips I hear, "go, my son, the world does not wish to be saved and she’s waiting.”

I turn once more, dizzy from the chaos. I begin to miss the silence I once knew.



The street has grown empty and the lampposts have begun to flicker on. In the direction of the old woman’s finger lies an alley, and just beyond I hear a faint sobbing. I glance back to where the old couple once sat. I’m not sure why I’m surprised when I find them having vanished.

Who is she? Where am I? What in the ever loving **** is going on?

Confused beyond belief, and curious beyond repair, I begin down the alley. The sobbing continues and becomes familiar. I’ve heard this cry before; not from a relative or a friend, but from myself. I begin to feel the cry more than I hear it. I feel the hopelessness. I feel the anger. I feel the utter loneliness of having fought so valiantly only to still lose everything; my pace hastens. Every sob feels like my own. My head whips back and forth as I reach the end of the alley and the sobbing stops. Where is she?

Pain shoots up my legs as my knees buckle, tears streaming down my face. I knew nothing; my vision grows weak from lack of breath until I collapse.



* * *



All I see is the knife; bloody, old bloody though as it seemed dry. I grin and let go a chuckling scoff. “Most people would have freaked.” I catch her smile before her face goes sour.

“I see.”

The air is thicker. “Do you smoke?” I grab a stoge from the outstretched pack, place it in my mouth, and from the pocket of my jeans, I grab my lighter… *shhhk *shhhk… The lighter feels familiar as I begin twirling it between my fingers.

“Thank you.”

I see where she had rubbed the tears from her eyes.

She begins to speak; though, I am unsure as to what prompted this. I hear every word and listen for every thought. Her mind is a mess.

Silence again. I turn away as her eyes gloss over with the look of one lost in thought. Minutes pass in silence, broken only by the puffing of our cigarettes.
I knock shoulders with her knowing that the mind can be a daunting prison. Her eyes meet mine for the first time. I smile… She smiles… I can see how fiercely gentle she is.



* * *



“Hi.”

“Hi.” Her laughter breaks the stillness; chaos can be peaceful.

I pick up the knife that lie between us. The blood flakes off as I examine the blade.

“I used to be a dancing monkey as well.”

Her face lights up with the brightness that can only come when you haven’t been seen as you are for too long. I could see the questions swell in her mind.

“A malicious act is not in and of itself bad.”

The words rolled out as if I had said it a million times before, though, this was the first.

I stand, and give her one last look. I see all of her like one would an old friend; all the days she has lived, and all the days ahead of her. Pulling myself into the moment shows me her current poise. I wish to tell her it gets better. I wish to console her fears. However, I do not wish to lie to her as other have, will and do.

“I am not the answer, I am the seeker.”

My words felt cold and distance as I took in a long deep breath. “I know.” I don’t know why, but I believe she does.

Her smile lingers in my head as I shut the door behind me… “stay the course.”