The Distant Summer
The chandelier sways. It is a brass thing, heavy and ornate, dripping with crystal that catches the gaslight and throws fractured rainbows across the damp stone floor. You are standing in the center of it. You are wearing a dress of emerald silk, cut low, cut daringly. You feel the fabric against your skin. It is cool. It is wet. You are not alone. You are surrounded. The room is full of people. They are looking at you. They are smiling. They are not smiling. Their smiles are fixed. They are masks. You know this. You have always known this.
"Drink," says a voice. It is soft. It is kind. It is the voice of your husband, Arthur. He stands behind you. His hand rests on your lower back. The touch is electric. It is the touch of ownership. It is the touch of love. You do not pull away. You never pull away. You turn. You look at him. His eyes are dark. They are deep. They are wells. You see yourself in them. You see your own face. It is pale. It is tight. It is afraid.
"To us," he says. He raises his glass. The wine is red. It is thick. It looks like blood. You raise your glass. You touch it to his. The crystal sings. It is a high, thin note. It cuts the air. It cuts the silence. You drink. The wine burns. It goes down your throat. It is warm. It is sweet. It is poison. You do not care. You are not you. You are the house. You are the chandelier. You are the glass. You are the wine. You are the drinker. You are the drunk.
The music starts. It is a waltz. It is slow. It is heavy. The dancers move in circles. They spin. They float. They disappear. They reappear. You watch them. You do not dance. You stand still. You hold the glass in your hand. You watch the liquid tremble. You watch the reflections. You see a face in the wine. It is not your face. It is a woman. She is older. She is tired. She is wearing a grey dress. She is standing in a kitchen. She is scrubbing a floor. She is looking up. She is looking at you. She is shaking her head. No. No. No.
You look at Arthur. He is looking at the dancers. He is not looking at you. He is watching them. He is judging them. He is measuring them. He is selecting. He is choosing. You feel a coldness in your chest. It spreads. It moves to your fingers. It moves to your toes. You are freezing. You are dying. You are leaving. You are going. You are going up. You are going to the attic. You are going to the room. You are going to the place. You are going to the truth.
You put the glass down. You set it on the table. It makes a small sound. A click. A stop. The music continues. The dancers spin. Arthur does not notice. You turn. You walk. You walk away from him. You walk away from the party. You walk away from the light. You walk into the dark. You walk into the hall. The hall is long. The hall is cold. The portraits watch you. They are ancestors. They are ghosts. They are judges. They look at you with pity. They look at you with anger. They look at you with recognition.
You reach the door. It is wooden. It is heavy. It is locked. You try the handle. It does not move. You push. It does not move. You pull. It does not move. You are trapped. You are stuck. You are here. You are always here. You try the handle again. It is warm. It is alive. It pulses. It beats. It is a heart. It is a trap. It is a cage. You scream. No sound comes out. Your mouth is open. Your throat is dry. Your voice is gone. Your voice is eaten. Your voice is swallowed. Your voice is buried.
You hear a key. It is a small sound. It is a metallic sound. It is a sharp sound. The lock turns. The door opens. The light comes in. It is white. It is bright. It is blinding. You squint. You step out. You are in the hallway. You are not in the room. You are not in the house. You are in the street. The street is wet. The street is black. The street is empty. You are alone. You are free. You are lost. You are found. You are nothing. You are everything.
You walk. You walk down the street. The rain starts. It is light. It is fine. It is cold. It soaks your dress. It soaks your hair. It soaks your skin. You do not care. You walk. You walk fast. You walk hard. You walk like a ghost. You walk like a shadow. You walk like a memory. You pass a shop. The shop is closed. The shop is dark. The shop is silent. You pass a church. The church is open. The church is bright. The church is loud. You do not go in. You walk past. You keep walking. You keep going. You keep moving.
You reach the park. The park is big. The park is green. The park is wet. The trees are tall. The trees are dark. The trees are watching. You sit on a bench. The bench is wet. The bench is cold. The bench is hard. You sit. You breathe. You think. You remember. You remember the kitchen. You remember the woman. You remember the scrubbing. You remember the floor. You remember the look. You remember the no. You remember the truth. You are the woman. You have always been the woman. You are not the silk. You are not the glass. You are not the wine. You are the floor. You are the dirt. You are the stain. You are the scrub. You are the work. You are the labor. You are the life.
You stand up. You are tired. You are hungry. You are cold. You are alone. You are you. You look around. The park is empty. The rain is falling. The night is deep. You see a light. It is far away. It is small. It is yellow. It is steady. It is a lamp. It is a window. It is a home. It is a hope. You look at it. You look at it hard. You see the shape. You see the form. You see the face. It is Arthur. He is there. He is waiting. He is watching. He is calling. He is coming. He is always coming. He is always there. He is the light. He is the dark. He is the trap. He is the cage. He is the key. He is the lock. He is the door. He is the house. He is the husband. He is the master. He is the god. He is the devil. He is the man.
You do not go to him. You do not run to him. You do not call to him. You do not beg for him. You do not want him. You do not need him. You do not fear him. You do not love him. You are done. You are finished. You are over. You are out. You are away. You are free. You are gone. You are here. You are now. You are real. You are true. You are whole. You are complete. You are enough. You are all. You are one. You are free.
The rain stops. The air is clear. The air is sharp. The air is clean. The stars come out. They are bright. They are cold. They are distant. They are eternal. They are indifferent. They are beautiful. They are cruel. They are kind. They are true. You look up. You look at them. You feel them. You feel the cold. You feel the light. You feel the time. You feel the space. You feel the self. You feel the soul. You feel the spirit. You feel the life. You feel the death. You feel the birth. You feel the cycle. You feel the wheel. You feel the turn. You feel the spin. You feel the dance. You feel the song. You feel the silence. You feel the sound. You feel the voice. You feel the word. You feel the name. You feel the truth. You feel the lie. You feel the end. You feel the start. You feel the middle. You feel the whole. You feel the part. You feel the all. You feel the nothing. You feel the something. You feel the everything. You feel the free. You feel the bound. You feel the broken. You feel the fixed. You feel the lost. You feel the found. You feel the gone. You feel the here. You feel the now. You feel the always. You feel the never. You feel the yes. You feel the no. You feel the maybe. You feel the truth. You feel the lie. You feel the real. You feel the fake. You feel the good. You feel the bad. You feel the right. You feel the wrong. You feel the just. You feel the unjust. You feel the fair. You feel the unfair. You feel the kind. You feel the cruel. You feel the soft. You feel the hard. You feel the warm. You feel the cold. You feel the wet. You feel the dry. You feel the loud. You feel the quiet. You feel the fast. You feel the slow. You feel the big. You feel the small. You feel the high. You feel the low. You feel the in. You feel the out. You feel the up. You feel the down. You feel the left. You feel the right. You feel the front. You feel the back. You feel the top. You feel the bottom. You feel the inside. You feel the outside. You feel the center. You feel the edge. You feel the core. You feel the shell. You feel the seed. You feel the fruit. You feel the root. You feel the branch. You feel the leaf. You feel the flower. You feel the stem. You feel the vine. You feel the tree. You feel the forest. You feel the world. You feel the universe. You feel the void. You feel the all. You feel the nothing. You feel the self. You feel the other. You feel the one. You feel the many. You feel the single. You feel the multiple. You feel the unique. You feel the common. You feel the special. You feel the ordinary. You feel the holy. You feel the profane. You feel the sacred. You feel the secular. You feel the divine. You feel the human. You feel the animal. You feel the plant. You feel the stone. You feel the water. You feel the fire. You feel the air. You feel the earth. You feel the space. You feel the time. You feel the mind. You feel the body. You feel the soul. You feel the spirit. You feel the ghost. You feel the angel. You feel the demon. You feel the god. You feel the devil. You feel the saint. You feel the sinner. You feel the king. You feel the beggar. You feel the master. You feel the servant. You feel the lord. You feel the peasant. You feel the rich. You feel the poor. You feel the strong. You feel the weak. You feel the brave. You feel the coward. You feel the wise. You feel the foolish. You feel the old. You feel the young. You feel the dead. You feel the alive. You feel the past. You feel the future. You feel the present. You feel the memory. You feel the dream. You feel the reality. You feel the illusion. You feel the truth. You feel the lie. You feel the fact. You feel the fiction. You feel the real. You feel the fake. You feel the good. You feel the bad. You feel the right. You feel the wrong. You feel the just. You feel the unjust. You feel the fair. You feel the unfair. You feel the kind. You feel the cruel. You feel the soft. You feel the hard. You feel the warm. You feel the cold. You feel the wet. You feel the dry. You feel the loud. You feel the quiet. You feel the fast. You feel the slow. You feel the big. You feel the small. You feel the high. You feel the low. You feel the in. You feel the out. You feel the up. You feel the down. You feel the left. You feel the right. You feel the front. You feel the back. You feel the top. You feel the bottom. You feel the inside. You feel the outside. You feel the center. You feel the edge. You feel the core. You feel the shell. You feel the seed. You feel the fruit. You feel the root. You feel the branch. You feel the leaf. You feel the flower. You feel the stem. You feel the vine. You feel the tree. You feel the forest. You feel the world. You feel the universe. You feel the void. You feel the all. You feel the nothing.
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