雪山在唱歌| C2 Morph <8>
Singing Snowberg
Chapter Two
Morph <8>
Chros©
Sunder appeared in my dream almost a month ago, even before Rosa’s death. This means my dream started to save me even before my crisis. How it did it? Unless it could predict the future. About future, I thought it’s unpredictable. Did it predict the arrival of Salix? I need to ask it, find the answer.
That strange woman stands by the shore, I’m happy to see that red umbrella she’s holding. In my impression she doesn’t talk to much and hates questions. Obviously and bizarrely, I’m in a girl’s body. Where’s Morph?
This is a night, feels like summer, but the giant moon hanging above chills my body, I’ve never seen a moon this big. The ocean ahead is dead peaceful, can’t see nothing except the exact same moon floating in the water. There’s wind, it flicks her hair, harassing her emotionless face, but I know there’re sorrow inside.
She starts to speak, without strong emotions but plain tone like water flowing. My eyes closed after I felt the strong impact from those stories she’s pouring, I can’t force them to open and subsequently know this is only one possible part of a memory. Only wondering, does this lady forgets what she said after pouring them outside just like me? I don’t understand the language, but they rush into my head and fill in all possible blankness, somehow I understand because of the rushing happiness, desperate, sourness, bitterness and so much more the indescribable. I sense how this girl senses about those stories. I see: I don’t have to hear the sound or understand the language to catch her mind, we’re feeling all the same. This is why I don’t have to watch or listen or touch or smell Rosa to mourn her as long as I remember the magic feelings she casted. This is why I’m looking for the magic feelings around my life, dreams and realities and movies and their mixture. I’m always looking for them, before her and after her, she was just special enough to make me realise what kind of feelings I have been looking for. She was special and she is not that unique. This is sad, because I might not mourn her forever; but also happy, that the pain won’t last forever. If it has to be eternity, I have to go into a glass container. Things have both sides, that moon has reflection, we have a twin somewhere, all we have to do is to find each other.
That woman, my grandma, she walked into the darkness and never turned up again. This piece of memory doesn’t belong to me, why show me? I want to call out, but I can’t control my body, she sits on the stool for some time, like eternity. Night falls deeper as temperature falls lower. She’s alone now, but I don’t feel her panic in this freezing cold world. She closes her eyes, endless pain going through, she has lost her grandma. Only these memories of her stories were left behind, for her to fight this world. Her tears are running down the same time she hears the sounds of the wind, the frogs, the paddy fields, the bamboo forest and the night birds. I get the feelings from them even I don’t understand their languages, thus nothing around me hides mysteries. This is happening, but not a past thing, it’s held in someone’s hands forever, never fade, so precious, like mine, my mourning for her, for my Grandma, and for Rosa. This is too true to be true, I don’t want to leave it, please don’t wake up Cyano, you see you both have nature, it consoles your soul, freezes your wants, ever by your side.
The illusion of the night is torn apart from the horizon, Morph’s face appears. “Come with me.” “No!” I can’t believe this is a dream.
“This is the first time ever you have this much courage to face the reality. But you have to have the courage to fight the memory.”
“Who the hell are you?” “I’m your another pair of eyes.” The mountains behind her are green with lives, and the sunshine the clouds the birds the sounds of everything, calling me. I finally leave that girl, when I look back at her from this side of the crevasse, I see her smile and I could feel her always, that we have everything if we to feel with a true heart. Somehow we’re connected.
“Look, rainbow!”
The next morning when the alarm rings, it’s half past 6. “Let’s go to work.” “I need a shower, could I use yours?”
He gave me his keys to fetch his clothes, the room number is FR44.
“Do you need a shower? You don’t looked good.” Oh I don’t looked good, how could I looked good. “I had a bad dream.” He looks disappointed, “tell me.”
I don’t know, the dream last night is still lingering so clear. I told him all about it.
“You have mental disorder, I suppose,” his face looked peaceful. “What? I don’t!” Under the shower head I tried to open my eyes but failed again.
“You know? The psychiatric patients tripled after the plague in Southpole.” I’m listening, ignoring. “You don’t remember last night?” What last night? I was in a place I don’t want to go back to. Cyano jerk, you cried with her and now you leave her forever!
He didn’t explain, we kept silence afterwards, except my non-stopping self-cursing.
I guess someone saw me wearing headphones when I was at work, the delay of the cleaning is just an excuse. But what’s the matter? I didn’t escape my work! How about slow down my work and splash at the same time! So I checked the map to find some fun places, but this is a research station! The funniest things are those vending machines. However, I found a library, and I like books. I’d like to exchange position with another cleaner. You don’t know how easy is it to do this. That boy is just bored with his old position.
