Day 1

Into the light, out of the darkness, merged with the gleaming red-and-silver residue that darkness leaves in the underside of eyelids, I could see (feel, even) a human pendulum swinging violently a few feet away from the wide-open door of her room. Barely standing, with my hand grabbing furiosly at my own thigh and a vertiginous feeling, as if all of my insides had been upended and then set on fire, I closed my eyes with inexplicable violence and started swallowing, swallowing nothing, trying to revert to nothingness to evade the crudeness of the scene, but inevitably bound to bounce back to

There was a window entirely draped, its edges trimmed by whatever musty, murky light could subtly seep in, almost as if it were decorative, a necessary but uncertain addition to the tableau. A lightbulb, clinging to a pair of wires cringed like the hand of a dying old man, It was as if from her body time emanated, each swing a second, each drop of a blood a millisecond, her were the hands of a clock from time immemorial, the original clock of the world, the hands dripping blood that in reality were seconds in the passing, Then after the light more darkness but a less radiant darkness, darkness stripped of all threat, a hopeless darkness and thus an active one, a darkness that immediately devours, ruthlessly, the velocity of things and thus time, timeless darkness, spaceless darkness, irrational darkness. The mere tho