The memory of water
On the day of the event (i.e. the trauma), it's as if a part of the soul escapes from the body. The one that must be kept intact. The one that still smiles in childhood pictures. The event can take any form: an accident, a fateful phone call (…)
The next day
The horror of it all was that I had prepared everything in advance. Backpack, passport, essentials. A few days later, they’d be waiting for me at the airport. At that moment, I’d imagined only two possible endings to that story (…)
The wandering
It's my fault. I had established a long time ago that when things would go wrong, I’d simply cut myself off from the rest of the world. Remember when I was little? I used to call it “the extinction”. (…) But I'm scared. I think I'm stuck, Lidy. I can't get out of it. (…)