Monday, 20 April 2015









Whatever novelty there was to this new life had, at least within the hotel itself, quickly waned. Still, an unaccountable desire to remain inconspicuous had exceeded her curiosity, and awaiting that something as would precipitate her life beyond these grounds she had created her own distractions to punctuate the mundanity of her penned existence.
Until this morning’s post had brought beneath her door a crisp airmail envelope and its single folded foolscap content written with “Absolute liberty is to be endured.” and nothing more.
In her comprehension of this unshackling the exerted gravity of the local streets and their shops, museums, cafes and galleries has increased to the point of making her feel dense and heavy and oddly compact as she sits, semi-naked, on the edge of her bed.
The brightness braying full in the open window renders near-white the room’s pale cobalt wallpaper, and causes the torn into quarters postcard home to float upon its own shadows. The hours after lunch she has already begun to fill with her imagination.
For now she is content in her anticipation, and in the welcome absence of exigent money and the ceaseless chattering cogs who, having already turned down her room are far along the corridor and barely audible.
She tips her head the better to enable her ears their scan of the quarantine airmap constructed around her body.
Eyes closed, she tries to focus in on this zone of exclusion but finds her thoughts continually returning to the postcard written yesterday and the coincident letter’s arrival this morning.
A high mosquito whine up front right, a tiny ignorant crescendo flying on into trespass, a drop in pitch for change of vector, its co-ordinates confirmed, its life she suddenly claps absolutely out of being.
It is only in her crossing to the sink to wash the smut from her palms that the single scratch across her abdomen again makes manifest its tender presence. The waking up to blood beneath her nails and the arrival of the envelope.
She returns to the bed and shuts her eyes tight to resume her audio-surveillance for what she reckons will be the fourth time this morning.
ache1 (counting off against her fingers): Fly. Mosquito. Gnat. Gnat.
Fifth