Fall Through The Wind

         The room covered the width of the house, with only three metres on one side preventing it from claiming the whole of the first floor. It was a massive landscape, grey and decaying, littered with overturned tables, chairs and mirrors, doused in layers of dust that covered them like a sheet covers the face of a dead man. The furniture bore traces of splendour that had been stolen by the years, as did the broken perfume bottles, wooden boxes and traces of jewellery that lay among them. I stood at one end, surveying the wreckage that had once been full of laughter and merriness and intrigue. Now it stood, empty, the last memories hidden in it searching for escape.

         At the other end, slightly to the left, stood a group of figures in dark, monotonous clothing, speaking quietly amongst themselves. They seemed to blur into their background; soporific colours overlaying toneless ones, creating a lifeless collage.          Echoing, their unheard words danced around the room. Too afraid to dare my ears to find their meaning, they reached the walls and withered.

         I moved forward, deeper into the room, a cloud of dust erupting from the threadbare carpet on which I stepped.

Another step, and then another.

         Silence clouded the air. It wedged into every corner of the expansive room, outraged by the interruption of its thoughts.          Another step, another step.

         A crack smashed the silence as I stepped onto a derelict mirror, covering it in a spider web of lines. Though the sound was so long, so reverberating, so clear, the figures showed no signs of hearing it; they continued their conversation, immersed in one another, caught up in their melancholy and solitude. I took another step, pushing away a mass of debris with my foot and raising more dust from its sleep.

         A fragile smile lit my lips as I caught sight of a photograph amongst the fragments. It had faded, was nearly gone, but you could see the two children – boys of about ten – laughing in it quite clearly. Their elated eyes were enough to make most people laugh and their angelic faces glowed with equanimity. It seemed impossible that they had been in this same room, so happy, only five, perhaps ten years ago. I bent down to lift the photograph, the lace sleeve of my dress gently brushing the floor. On closer inspection, the background bore a memento of vivid, flamboyant colours; an almost visible wallpaper which I knew had covered the room I stood in. Delicate pink stained the boys’ lips, and blue tainted their eyes. Their hair, had, too, been fair.

         Suddenly, something in the room shifted. A slight sound, a distinct movement which I missed. Nonetheless, it shocked me and I dropped the photograph, turning around to locate the distraction. My attention once again shifted to the figures, forgetting about the photograph, which fluttered to the floor and then lay still. I began moving once again, reluctantly being drawn towards the group. I placed my foot on an overturned coffee table, testing to see if it would take my weight, then stepped onto it. The table creaked feebly, but soon became silent.

         Drawing closer to the group, I began to notice details – stains on their coats, their long, unkempt hair, and the stench of mourning, hanging in the air. They seemed to draw closer to one another as I approached them, as if hiding a pale secret. The whispering cadence ceased.

         Tepidly, carefully stepping over an overturned chair, I made one final step, and crossed the threshold, joining the group.

Still they ignored me. Only my breathing was audible, but barely so, and my lips were parted slightly, and my chest rose and fell as I breathed slowly. I impelled my way into the centre, only to find myself alone again.

         The figures screeched, painstakingly moving their vocal cords, dissonance filling the room. They grasped and caught onto only thin air and fell. They fell beyond my reach, fell away, fell into the ground. They disappeared, evanesced.

         I stood still, staring blankly ahead, my ears ringing with the sound of their screams. My eyes filled with images of their faces, disfigured with angst, love and dreams; twisted beyond recognition. Although they were gone, they seemed to surround me. I felt my balance beginning to fail, and still I was silent, and I fell. Then my body hit the ground with a dull thud, and the room was silent.