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May 18, 2005
Night Porter
walking all night, he looks tired, his hair unkempt, his skin sagging, pouting his lips as a way to meke him concentrate, lowering down his eyebrows, looking down, he pushes his hand trhough his hair, pushing it back on his scal, somehow the acts calms him down, but he is no looking for calm, he has been following his vision all night, by himself he way heliked it, with his long black raincoat, which allowed him a certain pivacy, covering most of him.
He is preaccoupied by the shadows he has seen in his mind, the texture of the colors the design and that certain music he had heard from a distance, wondering which one will bring the vision to focus, which one will guide him, closing his eyes, he tries to humm the music, as it pranced in his mind, the melody, no , no, it was a bit higher, and the way the notes opend, as the whole orchestra joined in, taking it higher, his fingers tries to trace the music in the air, and then there are hues, hues of living colors, the way they bubble and come in, Oranges, yes, it was always oranges, there was some sort of attraction for him, the life that came in that hue, as it became slowly gold, and amber, with traces of oranges still there drowning slowly.
And then the face came, in a close up, against the black background as the light brought it to focus, erasing the shadows, taking them away, very slowly, the face, the long forehead, with the weatherd skin, a few hair standing short at the top of the skul, but it was long around the head, along side of the ears, unkempt, oily, unwashed, sticking to gether in strands, standing out. and the thich eyebrows, that forbade the long forhead contrasting its colorness against the rich full black bushes of it, extending toward the side of the head, and the eyes, with sagging eyelids dropping, in layers, overcasting the irrises, one round Black irris, standinf high on the sphere og the eyeball, leaving a visable line of white underneath it, black with no depth, no glowing reflections, and the other irris, you could see some of the linees of it inbrown blue, deemed, no light , no seeing just there, making the face more morbid and unforgiving.
And the nose, extending out, with w crocked bone that bumped on its center and deviated a bit to the left, making the right sodes of the nostrils more visable and pronounced, rosy red in its texture. he had
no lips, no chuncks of flesh, under his nose, just a long line of a n opening, colorless and void of any expressions around his mouth. and the long chin, extending almost parallel to hin nose in a profile, and also a bit deviated to the left.
And that was all he had the music, the hues, how they bled in each other, and the face, devoid of any color, like a drawing against the paper, that was all he had come to see and keep in his mind, of his long over night trip, it was not much but it suited him fine, he had been back manu nights without anything, nothing had standed out and how lost he used to feel on those night, now at least he had something, he was happy, staring at the window, while wiping his mouth, now he had to bring them on the paper, and let them guide him, let the start while the music still played in his head, he sat at his desk, took a paper, and pen, and started to write, while humming.
Posted by Idinraha at May 18, 2005 02:18 PM