My Writings

The Indifferent One

Artwork: One and Multiple VI by Bogdan Sassu

Translation:from Bulgarian by Georgi Krastev

A naked ruined mind sticks out of the street. I saw him arriving and Carrying papers signed and stamped. He wore a suit. He shone and burned as a torch does. A vein throbbed on his neck and another – on his forehead.

At this moment, struck by a salty wave of indifference, I slid my gaze lazily to meet his and stretched my hand forward, which he shook with force. His words were as empty as the cavernous interior of dried gourds, hanging from a wall as superfluous decoration. In my boredom I explored my pockets and found Nothing. Arms relaxing by the side of the body just as serpents do onto a stone. And like my arms, I slithered into an unknown dream.

The “Spine” carried a Soul only – there was no neck to break, no bones to shatter. I was a gaze. Looking behind I see Tomorrow.

Tomorrow came wearing a foreign face. A face I know. The caffeine in my veins began to break and awoken by a falling feeling, I sped to catch it. Everything.

After I strung myself with gold and shining fineries and stuffed my stomach full I slept a bit more.

After I awoke I saw it was night. I birthed myself out into the womb of the street, the progenitor of all best mem’ries.

I slept a bit more – until my soul had healed fully. The twisted gaze the Reader encountered sticking naked out of the street, that troubled mind had wept like a baby amd had fallen asunder with dried tears on its cheeks.

Nothing stuck out of the street no more.

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