1

rejection was swift. an age ago from where he walks now. he puts one foot in front of the other. another step further away. his back to hers. he wants to look behind him. another step passes. he wonders if he has picked up the pace. if he has started walking faster since passing her. running away from the rejection. yet another step passes. there must be ten steps between them now. back to back. too late now. he walks on. doesn't look back. will never know whether she turned around or kept walking too.

the street had been empty in the brisk sunlight of morning. he had seen her turning into it. had seen her instantly. their eyes had met over the vast distance. and as the world slowed down, they walked toward eachother. in the vast expanse of time which passed, he saw their life together unfold. he could feel her first caress of his face. taste their first kiss. see their beautiful children play in a large green yard. as her perfect features become clearer with each step, he felt as if they were sailing toward eachother in perfect synchronicity. floating closer and closer.

then, suddenly, they are within contact range. this is where he needs to speak. needs to... engage her eyes. needs to find a smile. the right words. a compliment. anything. he shifts his eyes to hers. hers glance at his. and a split second is all it takes. his mind jumbles the words before they find voice. he chokes and screams desperately to himself. an awkward sqwauk. and like a swift wind, she breezes past. nothing more than a stranger on a sunlit street. rejection was swift.

another step and he leaves the street and the moment behind for good. but he is not despondent. as he falls back into his regular walking pace, he is comforted by the fact that around every corner lies a new opportunity to walk into his perfect future. every step a little closer.

and the sun shines on.

2

outside the sun blasts. i feel it trying to push into the room through tightly shut blinds. earlier, when i opened the door which leads outside, a burst of heat and light threw me back. a squinting imbecile retreating back into the cool safety.

the room is empty except for a table and a chair. a mat lies in one corner pretending at a bed. thin covers are crumpled from a restless night. hot dreams. always hot dreams. the pillow, sculpted in the last desperate embrace of the morning, lies lonely.

i hear footsteps walking past the room's windows.

there are three windows to one side, the door is facing them opposite. it has a little window with dark glass. it keeps most of the light out but the ferocity of the sun can be gauged by looking at it.

but for the moment my attention is focused solely on the sound from outside. which has now all but dissapeared. just an improbable memory. i squirm to listen. nothing. just the hot sun beating at the window.

for the rest silence.

i sit against the wall. white and cool. it enforces my feeling of safety. the strong hard white walls. it is impossible to penetrate into the square volume of the room.

i hear voices. they mumble hastily, their footsteps rushing past. i pace the room. unable to understand what i have heard. footsteps and voices outside seem impossible. the ferocious light. the angry heat.
i spend the hours in anxious anticipation caught in the desperate idea that there was really something outside.

but the sounds don't return.
and the day passes.

as the sun sets, and the next sun rises i lay down on the mat exhausted for sleep. i wake into a dream and feel the slow approach of the devlish heat. i grip my pillow in a tight embrace.

hot dreams. always hot dreams.

3

the voice of her thoughts was interupted by the phone. she walked to it and answered.

"hello?"

"hello?"

she replaced the phone on the receiver and, completely untroubled, returned to the voice of her thoughts.

4

it was strange to see myself like that.
i had never actually been confronted with an exact copy of myself.
but there i was.
standing right in front of me.
the space we were in was a little dark at first. so i could only make out the contours of a tall thin body. i was surprised at the height. something in the shoulders. something in the stance. it looked like me but not the way i had always imagined. i was not who i knew from pictures or video. but it was definetely me when the lights came on a bit stronger. i was looking into a giant wall to wall mirror.
but this was no mirror. i waved at myself... sheepishly. but did not wave back. i just stood there looking. as if both myself and i found the experience equally strange. and this did not seem unreasonable when i thought about it.
i began walking to myself still expecting some mirror image to copy the motion exactly. but it wasn't till after a few small steps that the figure in front of me began to move. it made me stop. i had to look at my body. at how i walked. it was fascinating.
i smiled at this.
and i smiled back.
it was in the smile that i recognized myself, without a doubt. we were close enough now to recognize features. i was most definetley looking at myself and not another being. i could see it in my eyes as we approached each other at an arms length. `
I looked straight into my eyes. a mezmerizing experience. they were beautiful. green, brown, blue. i had seen all these colors before. i had seen these eyes, recognized them from morning shaves and from fixing my hair and my smile before going back out into a bar. i knew this man, i was me.
i walked around myself slowly. did a turn. i reached out and touched myself gently. my other self withdrew but then touched my arm. i bent down to feel the contour of my legs. it felt real. there was a real person here.
on impulse i returned to where i stood behind myself. i reached out to touch my back. i felt the shirt, then underneath the tension of muscle, of skin. the body. i put both of my hands flat on my uppper back and held myself there for a moment. i moved up to gently squeeze the shoulders where i had felt such strain the last months. i could feel the tension and began to massage a bit harder. i turned around and smiled. grateful. my hands went down my hanging arms. slowly. carresingly. i reached my hands and held them in my hands. i pulled myself closer to myself and looked deep into my eyes.
i smiled.
i smiled.
there was no shame. there was a strange understanding at what was happening. closer closer closer i came to my lips and i kissed myself. somewhere between that kiss and the next i knew i had fallen in love with myself.
that this was the perfect person for me and the feeling appeared to be mutual.

5

it was a nasty sudden sensation. his left ear stung with excruciating pain. from the core of the drum straight into the brain. in a jerk reaction, he clasped the shell with both hands as if to shut the pain out. but it persisted. stinging like before, with even a slight jaw movement intensifying the agony. he let his ear lay in his hand, his head on top and waited.
then it subsided. as quickly as it came, it was gone.
but the memory of the pain was still there. a little after ache which kept his left hand held tightly on his ear as if afraid something might fall out.
he walked into the other space and took out a Q-tip. he inserted it into his ear as if to remove all the remaining pain and leave it on the soft white tip. he studied it. there was nothing on the tip except a nearly imperceptible smear of ear wax. no blood. no huge quantities of puss. nothing like what he expected for the pain was too great for there to be no evidence left from it.
"the pain shot through my ear," he explained to the man who had come to his side.
the man looked carefully at the ear, then at the Q-tip. "is it still hurting?" he asked.
"no, the pain is gone now."
"well then, everything is allright." the man walked out of the space.
the other looked into the large mirror on the wall and again at the cutip. he could see no difference in his face. the memory of the pain was almost indiscernable. it appeared that everything was alright. he threw the Q-tip into the small waste bin and walked out to the other space.
everything seemed to be fine.