Nephtaly Joel Botor
Drown
Nephtaly Joel Botor
And so I found myself suspended in the air. Weightless. Continuously drowning amidst the thin air the envelopes my fragile body, which, in a few seconds, will fall apart as soon as it touches the pavement that has been the Skinner’ s box to thousands of mice in this awful city.
I should be afraid to cease. I should be. That’ s what everyone around me thinks. Why wouldn’ t they have this thought? I am a star. Everyone in this metropolis know me and they respect me. The skyscrapers that spread all over the sky of this ruthless town are of me and for me. They rise and fall at my command. But at this moment, they are nothing but inverted crap of my creation that cannot move and that cannot even see me drift apart in the middle of vast ocean of gas where I am right now. From the outside, they appear invincible. They are hard as the mixture of cement and steel that comprises them. They are as far-reaching as the periphery of vision can perceive from below. They are as grandiose as the jewels and stones and mirrors— yes, mirrors— that blanket them. But now they are nothing but empty vessels of my limited dreams that would soon vanish with me.
Can I be blamed? I was once a speck of dust ignored by all, blown by the wind wherever it wished to go. Yet as I gathered myself together, I slowly rose towards the top of the world of my own creation just as these buildings around me emerged from dirt. Suddenly, I realized everyone was looking at me and I became the apple of their eyes. Others who used to stepped on me began to look at me with admiration, then with adoration and with reverence.
But as I sink in this ocean of air, I am again a speck of dust at the mercy of the wind, flown wherever it wants me to be. And those people who revered me? All I can see are their heads filled with nonsense cravings and concerns as they struggle to outsmart each other, pushing one and the other against the tough walls of the invisible labyrinth that embraces every nook and corner of this miserable place. And if I have the leisure to enter each mind, as if my existence will not cease in a while, I know the exact circuitry that runs inside: one spells greed, the other emptiness.
34 35