Chapter 12. Nothing helps

Neither the music nor the drinks, no sleep no food nothing. Transparent shadows all over an empty house an empty body with no more blood no more blood no wine no bread no miracle just tears inside teared apart inside outside no sun no snow no light no darkness nothing helps. No phone calls no letters no words any more. One of the shadows is a silence another one is a killer. It is dressed up like a clock it is hiding in the closet laughing while waiting while aging while counting its beats. Nothing helps, but you could. She said.

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Chapter 11. This is all about longing

She keeps dreaming of a house in the middle of the fog a house made of Christmas lights he is always in the dream inside the house smoking loving reading loving drinking longing he does not call her anymore she keeps dreaming of a walk in the middle of the world a walk made of Christmas snow he is always in the dream standing smoking loving thinking loving drinking longing he does not walk he does not call her anymore. Not a number not a name no call no call at all. No Fall, just Winter. Christmas time holly frozen time.