Everything, absolutely everything in this world ceases. We, the atoms that are contained in our flesh and blood, and all our bodily being will one day vanish into thin air. Our ashes will dissolve into Earth, and will soon be a vast nothingness. Everything fades, except through a window of that spot on our sphere. I would run to it whenever I felt the need to seclude myself. I was lucky enough to find it, but the selfish little girl that is locked up somewhere behind my ribs hid the map in a place where nobody can locate.
It’s a two-story humble cottage, nothing special. I would rush to the second floor whenever I reached there, listening to the wooden floor’s creaks as I hurried to the balcony.
On Thursday, the 19th of September, I was sitting on the balcony, so close to the edge, anticipating the full moon while holding my carefully-crafted paper flowers. And there it was, other-worldly and unimaginably close to me. It was so silent I could have sworn that silence has a hammering sound. The noiseless atmosphere helped me hear Earth’s slow rotation on its axis. Something told me that I was captured in an hour outside of time where everything was frozen and it was only me, the unusually gigantic moon and stars. And I knew I could resume time whenever I liked to. For the first time in my life, I felt the different dimensions of stars that I could actually stretch out to feel their heat.
As time wasn’t a factor, I couldn’t tell how long I stayed there. But it was a transcendental night that breathed into me. There I was, with red paper flowers on my lap as I was sitting in a white night gown, and the moon was on my balcony. It seemed like I was the only one to have found a window where I could trace infinity through. And I, in my physical form, was able to feel immortality.
I did not want this to fade, I wanted to keep it-capture it all in that hour outside of time, so I forced myself awake.
© 2013 ALIA SULTAN