As Long As Infinity

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The sun has set and the remaining light is slowly receding into the approaching darkness. She stands under the cold shower, shivering and gasping for breath as the icy water hits her. She has been standing under the water spray for so long, all the hot water has run out and she has to make do with the cold water. Her unknotted muscles now contract under the cold water.

She twists the knob to turn of the spray and slips into a towel robe, knotting the sash tightly. Just as she steps out of the bathroom, the lights go out. She clenches her eyes shut and stands there, hugging herself tightly in defense against the demons that might lurk in the dark. They really just reside in the crannies of her grey matter, the demons. Her fear lurks as she stands there motionless. The light returns and she sighs in relief.

This has been happening for quite a few days. It’s probably just some electrical shortage that occurs in the whole area, because the darkness isn’t restricted to her house alone. She has been meaning to get it checked. It started with a few minutes a day and the dark intervals grew rapidly over the days.

The dark lapses are way more frequent today. It such a dark night. She blindly makes her way to the window and pulls away the curtain in search of stars only to see a night so black you couldn't even see the faint shadows hovering. Just pitch black and sometimes a faint spark of light so unreal that it could only be an illusion.

These periods of darkness grow longer, momentarily still and longer and she wasted time flipping the light switches in each room. The world just plunged into darkness for seconds that lasted for an infinity. This certain one was lasting way longer than the rest. She had a weird feeling that this problem was deeper than she perceived. There is an odd feeling gnawing at her mind; a sense of cold seeping into her bones, giving her a warning, maybe.

The bell rings and she hears as the faint thud of footsteps near.

“Whose there?” she calls out.

“It’s me, Ruth!” She sighs in relief, hearing her neighbor’s name.

“Oh, hi! Come over, why are the lights all out? I mean it’s been ages and not even a speck of light is in sight.”

“What? No honey, they lights aren't out. Actually I came to ask you why all your lights are on in the middle of the night. Is everything okay?” She could hear a worry in her neighbor’s voice but her words made the world stand still for her.

“No, Ruth. No. There are no lights. I can’t see a thing. I can’t see a thing.”

The air left her throat and she stood in her dark world, hand flailing in the still air around her. She felt someone clutch her tight, whisper something incoherent, reassuringly but the sound of her own screams were the only thing she could here. It filled the entire house, echoing back at her deafeningly, sounding louder in the darkness of her mind. The darkness that was not just restricted to her house, it had spread to her entire world.

-Momina.

Suspended

She’s melting away in the white room,

Turning to stone while the quiet grooms.

A sole hammock hangs in a white painted room. Stark white and devoid of everything with the exception of the white hammock and a thick white carpet that covers the floor corner to corner. The carpet and the white walls are so perfectly match that at first sight you are unable to decipher as to where the floor ends and the walls start. There are no windows and only a single door. The room is efficiently illuminated by light bulbs such that there is little shadow play to hinder the dream like reality.

A pale hand hangs down the edge of the white hammock that seems to be floating in the air. The frail motionless figure whose weight presses down on the hammock is not asleep, rather absent from reality and dream altogether. She stands at the mutual edge of the both; confused as to where the reality ends and imagination begins much like the story of the carpet and the walls of the white room she lays in. There is no hurry though; she’ll stay until a state pulls her either way.

For now, everything is peaceful. Somehow right even though incomprehensible. Carelessness assaults her mind. She hasn't moved from her place on the white hammock in the white room. She has been there for a long while and she’s there to stay for a little while more. 

It gives her a feel of floating, her state and the hammock. Of drifting without moving, of defying gravity with logic. Or logic with insanity. Time lapses away; seconds, minutes, hours. A crazy energy drives her, fueling her with the strength to stay. To hold on; to her peace, to this incoherent mix of reality and dream that she is enjoying right now. To not be happy or sad but peacefully satisfied. This is her middle ground.

In the depth of her mind wild blooms,

There is red on the floor of the white room.

-Momina.

The Middle Ground

She was senseless; her consciousness was welded deeply into her subliminal mind. She was not asleep yet the slumber had not abandoned her, it hung around her creating a shell that did not let her wander towards either. She was bemused about what was real and what was just a figment of her imagination portrayed as real. It wasn’t such deep a night, she knew that, so then why was her mind playing tricks on her? She knew that the constant drip from the bathroom tap was real, it was there every night, and so was the faint whistling sound. She heard footsteps, and listened hard, staying still as a statue she realized it was her heart beat growing louder by each minute. She saw the shadows playing around and then almost a shadowy figure, which was gone with a blink of an eye. Sometimes the darkness would seem to prevail forever and at other times it drew in light, little fading circles of white and cream. The line between reality and imagination had gone hazy; she awaited the reality desperately as she hung by loose threads at the edge of her dreams. She hummed to herself; a sole sound in the death of the night, as the night became her, and her the night.

-Momina.