No Time part 1

Nikolett Galambos

by Nikolett Galambos

Story

Part 1

After a few seconds, she sees and feels nothing. As if her body has lost all its senses and power, she lies motionless in the immense pitch-black nothingness, flowing like streams of the dark ocean. Everything is quiet. Everything is peaceful. A few minutes pass. Or hours. Time has no meaning here. Then, she starts seeing something. A flickering, blurry light in the blackness. Is it a sparkler perhaps? No, it cannot be. Or can it? It is no sparkler. It is the stars. The stars.

I slowly open my eyes and find myself standing in front of a huge window in an unfurnished room. The black sky I am gazing at is painted with innumerable glittering silver dots. I slowly turn around. The room is lit by the strong white light of the full moon. The floor is covered with dust. The curtains are half-eaten by moths. The remains of the greenish paint on the walls are covered with mould. The room seems familiar; I must have been here before. But it did not look like this then. It was not empty, nor cold. It used to be magnificent. There used to be a huge crystal chandelier hanging above the cream-coloured sofa. A fluffy white carpet. Pastel green walls. My great-grandmother used to live here. My sister and I spent most of our time here, in the country. Sitting in the spacious living room, looking out of the wall-to-wall windows. Whenever I think of my childhood, I see this room. I see the Christmas decorations and feel the warmth of the chipped tile fireplace. Now, this room is completely empty. I am staring at the distorted image of what the garden used to look like, through the dirty windows. And for a moment, I see them. My sister, as a child, with her shiny long blonde hair, standing next to my elderly great-grandmother. They are holding hands. They are smiling. I put my palms on the cold surface of the glass and shriek: Wait!

But they both disappear. 

I rush to the back door to enter the garden, but as I turn the rusty old doorknob and put one foot out of the doorstep, it is not the garden I see. I am someplace else; my eyes need a few seconds to process the sudden change of setting. I slowly look around. I am in a coffee shop. This time, however, everything looks exactly the way it did the last time I was here. The same strange-looking chairs with only three legs. The same square-shaped wooden tables, each painted with a different colour. Candles and carpets everywhere. Those weird paintings on the walls; a bird with two heads next to a naked Statue of Liberty. The first time I was here, I thought I had just entered Wonderland. This is where I met my fiancé. I still remember that chilly day in November, when I was sitting in my favourite spot – which was in the corner of the coffee shop, next to a considerably high bookshelf –, studying for my upcoming examsI was disturbed by a clumsy-looking guy with glasses and messy hair. He asked me if he could sit down at the table next to mine and I nodded. Then he accidentally spilt his coffee all over my notes, and although I was furious at that time, months later I found myself falling in love with him. I try to hold onto this memory, but our silhouettes are already fading. I reach out one hand and whisper: Wait!

Already gone. 


© Nikolett Galambos 2023-06-25

Genres
Novels & Stories