Categories
ekphrasis

Ella doesn’t live here

Cinderella by Franz von Stuck (1899)

“Ella doesn’t live here anymore.” The old lady said. It’s not like I expected to see her. But the moment I knocked on that door, I felt a lump of stone in my chest. I asked anyway. Old habits were hard to break. Even after 10 years.

I’m sorry, I said. I asked if she left anything. Then I mumbled about time and lost objects. In hindsight, I was asking to be shooed away like a stray cat. Unbidden visitors are strange, yet there I was.

Of course I knew. Everyone in town knew. She went missing one day. Last they heard, she went for a run around the boulevard. Police never found her. Her family and friends searched for months. No crime scene, no body. Nothing. In my mind she left to travel forever. That’s what I’d rather believe.

“She left many things. I’ve put them away,” the old lady said. But from a narrow gap, she opened the door wider. She gestured for me to enter. It took me a while to gather myself.

And there she was. Her portrait on the white wall. My gift to Ella was my last memory of her. How images persist while people fade.

Categories
uncategorized

Meeting in the Quarantine

Dear friend,

I ran so many scenarios in my head 
when I met you again. 
I knew you sought me out. I was found. 

How, at once, we are now closer 
and further away from each other.

I apologize for not reaching out. 
Though I know you know
despite long nights of silence,
I was always by your side.

I cannot explain why I chose this solitude. 
It was the only constant thing in my life 
long before this dreadful pandemic.

But please, know this: In my absence, 
I did not love you less. 

Sometimes I have the urge to speak 
but my words fail. I mask the longing 
by trying to do what’s right. I hold 
my breath and count to five.
When it’s quiet enough, 
I hear your sighs.

For many reasons, it will ruin us. 
I do not know how and I’d rather not. 
Yet, it is hard to know you must leave.

The truth is, I cherish every day I wake 
to find you there. I’d gladly remain distant 
if our invisible ties will never sever.

If today is all we’ll have, now is enough 
to feel this joy. Though I wish 
I could hold your hand and unwaste 
the old privilege of a long embrace. 
Relearn what’s at the end of a kiss. 
If I could run my fingers 
through your hair like the last time 
the universe conspired—

But tonight, I am glad 
you are here.
I look into your eyes 
and breathe again.

Categories
letters writing life

Letter, 4021

Dear Scientist,

I hope this finds you well. Where I come from, a pandemic has wiped out more than two million people all over the world (and counting). The Chinese government has not taken responsibility for this tragedy, more contagious strains are spreading, and people everywhere are anxious about the future. Deep down, we know the world will never be the same. And as luck would have it, our own government is using the virus as a smokescreen to control and silence the masses.

The economy is in shambles, yet the ultra-rich continue to profit. I cannot stress how glaring the disparity has been. It’s as if solutions are only worth pursuing if it has profitable terms. Never mind saving millions of people, they say. The idea: self-preservation, a practical greed. Then again, protecting human life is a tall order when your own leaders sanction state murders. I cannot further elaborate how exhausted and frustrated we are. It is paralyzing. Helpless. All these happening within less than a year.

How is your world now? I imagine you’ve developed vaccines to prevent this from occurring again. Perhaps you’ve successfully vaccinated over 80 percent of the world’s population. I’d hate to think anti-vaxxers still exist in your century. I find it hard to believe they’d survive. But I guess stupidity transcends death. More than that, I loathe organized propaganda against access to quality education. Imagine spending billions to keep societies in the dark. No wonder many are burdened with distrust. They manipulate people and lead them to their demise. I do not know where to place my anger anymore.

How is your world now? I imagine you’ve developed vaccines to prevent this from occurring again. Perhaps you’ve successfully vaccinated over 80 percent of the world’s population. I’d hate to think anti-vaxxers still exist in your century. I find it hard to believe they’d survive. But I guess stupidity transcends death. More than that, I loathe organized propaganda against access to quality education. Imagine spending billions to keep societies in the dark. No wonder many are burdened with distrust. They manipulate people and lead them to their demise. I do not know where to place my anger anymore.

The truth is, I’m afraid for the future. Scientists have cautioned we should brace ourselves for new viruses. The arctic is melting and it’s releasing all kinds of unknown microbes. And as cities keep encroaching on forests, contact with animals is inevitable. A global pandemic will certainly happen again. So I wonder. How has your time fared? I believe you have more problems by now.

Have you found the cure for cancer? I wonder if the Amazon forest is still around. I’d be sad to hear about the extinction of trees and the number of species that have died out. Do we have enough clean water for everyone? More importantly, is the Earth still alive? I’d like to think an asteroid has not collided with our planet. If not, has it turned into a graveyard of filth? I hope not. Right now, we still have five billion years before the Sun begins to die. But I gather you do not have the luxury of time.

Is it true that humans can live up to 500 years? I don’t get this obsession with longevity. There must be something wrong with not accepting you will die. But I will admit, I think it’s cool if humans can have robotic parts and enhancements. Speaking of robots, have androids started organizing against humans? Or are they as subservient as ever? What kind of wars that might bring. I guess you’re facing a whole new level of social issues. Right now, I don’t see racism ever going away.

By then, I imagine human colonies have occupied the moon and Mars. Perhaps other distant galaxies. Maybe you’d forge alliances with aliens? Provided they actually bother communicating with you. Sadly, I think only the ultra rich will survive long enough to thrive in other planets. Along with their servants. I wonder what the future would mean for most of us, without that kind of privilege.

In any case, I hope this finds you well. I hope you are way better. I’d like to think the world would be wiser. That you’ve learned from the past. Right now, I really don’t think so. I hope I’m proven wrong.

A reminder,

2021

**I wrote this for a #WriteNight event, with the theme Letters to the Future. Edited it a bit. It’s hard for me to think about the near future. So I wrote a letter to be read 2,000 years later. It’s also comforting to know I won’t be alive by then.

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