Month: May 2021

The Displaced

 

1.
I notice the pores on his craggy face. His split eyebrows. Crow’s feet and sombre eyes. I see all this but I don’t recognize the Latino man’s face staring back at me from the bathroom mirror.
2.
Getting up abruptly, I begin walking, trying to quell the murmur of panic inside me. People are scattered around the spacious terminal. Some are observing me casually. I’m stopped by a firm hand on my shoulder. A man in a bright uniform, either a paramedic or a firefighter, tells me calmly:
Sir, please return to your bench and remain there. We will examine you again as soon as we are able to.
He wouldn’t let me cross the barrier. I see another uniform approaching. Uncomfortable with the odds, I decide against resisting.
Outside the barrier, an Indian lady in a beige sweater is standing with one hand on her chest. She’s following my movement, her mouth partly open.
I return to the bench by a ceiling-to-floor glass wall and sit, lowering my eyelids. My anxious thoughts haven’t subsided. Outside, planes are landing, taxiing, and taking off.
3.
I saw my husband being restrained by the paramedics. Yes, he was able to walk back to his seat unassisted. His gait was familiar. But I noticed that when he looked in my direction, there was something missing in his eyes. He didn’t recognize me. I’m pretty sure he didn’t.
4.
She’s a black girl, around my age. Her Afro and jacket went nicely together. I was so close, I could see the evening light on her bewitching irises. I could almost peer into her soul. But why am I seeing a stranger’s face in the mirror?


photo from Unsplash.com by Serrah Gallos 

The Landing

 


A cluster of lights on a stairwell landing somewhere. One of those ornamental things, probably selected by an ancient building owner. Only one bulb functioning out of four. What light there is barely reaches the carpet directly underneath. What’s gonna happen you wonder?

Is a guy going to walk up the stairs from out of our view, from the gloom and stop under the dim patch of light?  That would put him outside the door facing the landing. He might pause there. Then what? If the single light symbolizes a diminished mental capacity, would that apply to the man on the landing or any person behind the door?
OR do you think the cluster of lights actually symbolizes lives being snuffed out, one by one. The one still functioning can represent this fellow outside the door. What fate awaits him? Will something come from the darkness of the stairwell to finish him off?
OR do the lights reflect the inevitability of our existence, that eventually, everything and everyone  expires? No matter how brightly or what company  we shone with from the beginning. Our buoyancy in numbers, which give us our confidence, diminishes day by day until we find ourselves alone, on a poorly lit landing like this, waiting for what comes next.  The inevitable.
What if all of the above is true? What if all of it happens? What if we are the lonely man on the stairwell landing? Shall we ask ourselves the necessary questions:
Why am I here? What’s coming up the stairwell for me? Is this where it all ends for me? And who lives behind this door?

 

photo from Unsplash.com by Cyrus Lopes