Beyond the mosaic of yellow squares that rise up in the dark like a wall above my bed, there is another universe, a world where I fall into the faces of passers-by, inhabiting them like a candle with new light, a new way for them to touch the world. But they run off ahead of me, trailing me behind them like a vapour trail, or the tail of a kite, luminous in the sky above. I’m out again, my own self tipping quietly toward the yellow wall, wanting always to go back through, but there are some days when you just can’t. Sometimes weeks. There might have been a number of years there when I never remembered that the yellow wall was there. Some days you just have to ride the bus to work and continue to hope. Or not even that. Forget hope. Just carry on. Slide along in faith. Something might matter again someday.
The new guy is ready with his gun of light shining out somehow from deep inside him.
It was the day I chipped my middle finger nail. The people on the bus had their eyes closed. Except for the girl with her hair piled up on top of her head like something burst up out of her skull.
theseriallibrary 