by Lilliy Loidd
Dissociating from oneself.
I sit in my chair calmly and observe as the flood waters hit the glass. There is nothing around me. A slight buzzing is all that I hear from the turmoil on the other side. My world is white and soundproof. The glass is thick and sturdy. My chair is comfortable.
The water swirls and splashes around. Sharks swim up to the glass and desperately try to shatter it in an attempt to reach me. I sit in my chair and observe. I do not flinch. I know the glass would never break. I made it. I know my work is good. Nothing has ever reached past this glass.
I watch as the waters retreat. As the land dries into a desert. A sandstorm stubbornly throws itself at me. Some cacti get flung around, but nothing reaches me. The storm subsides and the sun distorts the air. It is so hot over there, it almost looks like an aquarium. I chuckle at the ironic image, but make no moves from my chair.
Finally, the world over there freezes. The glass grows opaque and I see myself in it. I am freezing. I am so cold. It starts to snow. It starts to snow around me, but the glass stands sturdy. I finally get up. I walk down the endless length of the wall, trying to find the crack that let the snow in. I walk for hours. I walk for weeks. Months. Decades.
I see no crack. All I see in an opaque white wall and myself staring back. The snow had turned into a flurry by now. I can't feel my fingers and toes. My nose is running and my eyes are burning. I have no clothing or blankets, I left everything on the other side. I think of going back to my chair but I don't remember where it was. I'm lost.
The glass suddenly turns transparent again. The desert is back over there. But the flurry on my side doesn't let up. I kick at the glass in frustration. I made it, but I'd forgotten how. How do I unmake it? How do I shatter something even thunder doesn't crack?
I cry and my tears freeze down my cheeks. Is this the end? Is this how I go? I have accomplished nothing. I have been noone. I look at the glass and see myself frozen. I reach out to myself for the first time. I touch my fingers to my own on the glass and it cracks. It shatters and I feel the still moment before the desert and snow mix. I touch my fingers on the other side and they are warm. I look into my eyes and smile. I have done something after all.
I dissipate with the snow as the heat of the desert overtakes my domain.
I step into it and breathe a sigh of relief at finally feeling the cold.
The desert was a long trip.
But in the end, I made it home.