Two

Worry and doubt are in the streets
They weave their way between the people
In and out of their ears
Into their nostrils
Some unseen collective meter is rising
Quickly heightening towards the edge of panic
But they’re clever beings, worry and doubt
With millennia of practice, they dose each figure with just enough

The young woman walks
Over the streets like a ghost
Worry and doubt, they don’t see her
Don’t smell her
And she doesn’t see them

Into the store that smells of coffee
Coffee, bread and paranoia
— | – Have you heard? They’ve seen it.
— Seen what?
In her tired, tired voice
— | – The beast called Horror.
Stare
Blink
— No.
— | – … No? What…
— No I haven’t heard.
Stare
The man opens his mouth
She turns her head away
Closes her eyes
Exhales through her nose
— Can I have a coffee?
— | – What? Of-course, um…
He moves through his motions
— | – Take-away?
She turns back to him
His hand hovering between paper cups and glasses
Tiredness slowly creeps up her body
Settles into her head
She sits down
Elbow on the table
Hand propping her head, covering her face
He takes a glass

The streets are clearing earlier
The cars take off quicker from the lights
It is a city of light fear
In the edge of the bravado lacing the voices of youths
In the hushed whispers of old women to young schoolgirls
She begins to notice it
But it just makes her more tired
The more tired she feels, the more transparent she becomes
Somehow less opaque
But there’s none to notice
The fear of the city is gaining mass in the air
Meaningless
An unknown kind of blindness
Her isolation drives her into a very stable neutrality
Focussing on nothing
Meditating on nothing
She hears the sound of her breath
Brushing in and out against the walls of her throat
A toneless rhythmic voice of its own
Measured
Paced
Three steps before each transition

The words of the man in the cafe have already been forgotten
No need to dismiss them
They vanish of their own accord
And she too expects herself to vanish
Some painless abstract of random death
Nothing is beautiful
Nothing is hideous
Nothing is anything

Everything is nothing

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And this! Do you have a book? You should have a book, that I can buy and carry with me. Oh my.