Daily Dose Of Romance


Much better than the original. Chester pined it completely.

No harsh feelings, Adele, but this piece of art is beyond the beauty.

If you haven’t heard this version, please do.

Is anyone out there who agrees with me? 


“The scars of your love remind me of us

They keep me thinking that we almost had it all

The scars of your love, they leave me breathless


can’t help feeling

We could have had it all……”




Lost By My Own Will



I couldn’t resist, it was the full moon, warm summer evening. I sat in the car and drove.
Just drove true the night.


Just drove, to get lost.


Music loud, windows down, feeling of freedom and that special scent of summer night.
Mixture of fresh grass, asphalt, ozone after rain, and gasoline.


Me and my car, one entity, driving and exploring, leaving the world behind.
Thoughts, emotions, blended into one bubble that would never burst.

I stopped by some unknown woods, and there was that meadow, barely seen through the dark.


I knew I’m lost, somewhere, but it was really what I needed.


I left the car, and sat down on the grass, slightly wet from the afternoon rain, just catching the moment,and wishing it would never end. Moon above me, stars, no cloud in the dark skies above me, not even one.


And then, there it came. Two falling meteors, one following the other.

I laughed, echoing in the surrounding silence, and thought about making a wish, but why?
I had everything I needed in that perfect frozen time moment.


Only one thing remained empty. The place beside me.
The person with I could share the moment stolen from time.
No regrets, though.
If it should be empty, then be it.


I leaved all of it, driving back to the familiar roads.
But my mind stayed there, like in the movie that would stay forever imprinted, with no subtitles, no ending, and with no beginning.



The Serenity Of Remorse


I will set free two, maybe three words,

To slide down my cheeks.


I do not want to steal the future time anymore,

I will rather leave,

And keep the honor guard

For the dead thoughts.


One day I will escape utterly,

And leave an empty void for the last wish.

The autumn sky will be hidden by the gap of emptiness,

And death.


Then, with the move of an experienced gambler,

I will pull the rope around the neck,

Of nonexistent, faint body.


I will let two or three words,

To flow with the content down my cheeks.


Thus, comforted, I will go to meet Him,

To appraise the remorse of the revealed pledge,

Sliding slowly down my face.

You broke it, stupid!



Not expected so much rain today. Maybe it will become a flood. It makes me sleepy, moody, down.

Everything a woman is expected to be. But I’m not that kind of woman, so I’m surprised with my own reactions.

I’ll grab some chocolate. Lay down. Listen to music. Think about opportunities and mistakes I have made.

I know, I know, bad choice of thoughts, but it’s my mind discussion which has to be done, sooner or later.

In the name of that, another undiagnosed “poem” ( oh, how I like that term).

Don’t call me

Don’t text me

Don’t even think of me.

You have no rights, no purpose in my life and my mind.

I erased you like a bad drawing from the plain paper, put you into garbage and kicked away with pleasure..

Please, you should do the same.

Our last conversation, silent, with no words at all.

Could I even call it conversation?

I had nothing to say, after you said everything, in four little, tiny words.





Enough said. Welcome to the exit door of my life. Please, shut it down.

I won’t look back anymore.

Black wings of love



I do not know if I can touch you

The way I want,

The way I feel.


I do not know if I could look into your eyes


Because I am afraid

That you be able to see all the secrets of my soul.

My wings are a little black, and

You’ll probably run away, I know.


I do not know if I can wake up next to you

And wish for another day,

Another night,

Another smile.


I do not know if I am going the right way

And if I make a mistake now,

Trip over my own words and deeds

I will fall

And never get up again.


I do not know why you’re here and who brought you,

What was the idea,

What was the thought of bringing you to me.


I do not know whether to thank him

Or prepare another box

For storing the memories away.

PhD On Terms Loneliness And Plural



Solitude is a synonym for a loneliness: noun aloneness.

So, there we have a three nouns, with the same meaning.

For me, they do not “feel”the same, at all.

Yesterday evening I was so mad at you, stuffing your travel bags once again, as I did numberless times before. I felt grief, because your job is so demanding and you are on a trip almost constantly.

I felt grief because your socks have traveled more than I am, they have seen the whole world. The whole world, indeed.

And here I am, putting those socks again into your bag, the bag will go into the airplane, and you will go into the airplane as well, leaving me as always.

That’s solitude. When you are already missing someone who is right next to you, but in his mind, the airplane has lifted off.

This morning, at the airport, we kissed goodbye.

Instantly, as you were gone, the loneliness has come.

That’s loneliness, when you return home and find a pair of forgotten socks. Me and your socks, waiting for you to return.

The days passing by, loneliness turns int a monster.

The monster called aloneness. It eats you, it haunts you wherever you are, no matter what are you doing.

Aloneness is the final stage. The verge of the pot full with emotions, ready to blast off.

I could ask for a PhD on these three nouns.

I mastered them to a perfection.

We have been talking about us, about your airplanes taking off’s, international arrivals and the awful airport coffee.

I had it enough, I don’t want to feel the third monster noun again. The pot has exploded, and I cannot do it anymore.

When you return to our home, where we have lived for the past few years, I will give you your forgotten socks.

I will kiss you because I love you and then I will leave you for good.

Because loving someone so much and missing him constantly, mastering the all synonyms for the solitude, is ruining my life.

I want you in it, in my life, in my presence. I want you, and not the forgotten pair of socks.

If you will ever be able to understand the solitude, the loneliness, the monster of aloneness, then you will find me.

If you do that, I’ll get rid of my PhD, and finally make a plural in our lives.

Instead of “you” and “I” apart, we could make the word “we” or “us”. A new word in my dictionary.

That would be an awesome PhD, about the new term  – “we”, as a plural.

But it’s up to you to decide. The socks, or me. The plural or the singular, it’s totally up to you.


Do not clap along!


Darkness and Light

No sunshine for he’s not here

And I’m not crazy what I’m about to say

I’m a tempered bomb ready to explode

Right into the space, bringing it all with me


I’m unhappy and feel free to clap along

If you know that feeling

When the room ceiling is falling down on you.

Clap along if you understand the meaning

Of the loneliness, the only truth

Clap along, I know you feel it too.


Nothing you can say can change my feelings

You’re just wasting your time.

No offense to you

Give me all the arguments you have

But no, I won’t be fine.


Hey, come on

As you don’t know it by now

Nothing can lift me up.

I’m gone way to deep

Into this state of mind.


Come on

Don’t waste your time

Clap along while I’m going into the dark

Where I belong.

Clap along

But don’t follow me down.

I’m already lost

But you can make it

If you just stop

Clapping along.

(Pharrell Williams- “Happy”, rewritten, as an answer to a challenge of  DP- “To The Tune Of….”)
Continue reading

My Superhero In The Clouds

The Phone


You were the one who taught me what a car is.

You taught me how to disassemble it completely

And assemble it again wholly.


You brought my passion for driving into the life

Bringing the speed, and the gasoline into my blood.


You cherished every moment we spent,

Even if you said some harsh words ’cause I climbed the apple tree so high,

I know you really never meant it.


I loved your hands covered in motor oil,

And your heart full of compassion and tearful joy.


I took care of your cats when you were ill,

Making them happy until you return and put them loose to do what they want, on their free will.


I followed you through all my life

As I did through your last days.


Spending days and nights by your hospital bed,

Watching you sleep, and kissing your cheeks.


You were so happy to hold my hand,

With the last strength that you had,

And smile back at me with love at the end.


Every day I remember you and your words.

You were my grandpa, my loving bliss.


May you rest in peace.

Until we meet again, don’t worry, I handle my car pretty well.




The Ability Of Perception



In the depth of the silent woods, through the mist and darkness, I saw him coming, as many times before.

Sitting on the grass, melting with the sounds of the forest, I closed my eyes.
“Have you learned anything from a previous meeting? Any new stories you need to tell me?”, he asked.
I felt he sat down by my side. I looked at him.
He always looked the same, through all those years that have passed, never getting older, always wearing the same long black coat and military boots.
Black eyes, the blackest black I have ever seen, were looking directly into my eyes, trying to read my mind.
“No need for that, I said, “I will tell you all”.

The silence stood between us. I have never interrupted him in his approach. It was the first time in my life, from the first time we met, that I showed the resistance.

“The happening will occur, soon, to get me where I do not want to go. I tried to stop it, but it is impossible. All the other probabilities just lead to the same endpoint”, I said trembling.

“Are you sure? Because after all the time I am teaching you, you have always found the parallel in which the endpoint is changed”. He looked confused. And that scared me. He was never confused, perplexed, or showed any kind of emotion. Just an empty face with the perspicacious eyes.

“Yes. I searched and tried hardly. As never before. But there’s just no other path”.

He nodded his head. I felt his thoughts rumbling through mine, searching and discovering.

I knew he would find exactly what I told him. Nothing more.

“You are right. You have done everything correctly, following all the steps learned. You are ready.”

That was not a good conclusion. That was not what I wanted to hear. I expected from him, as from my teacher, that he will be able to track down another passage.

“So, what am I supposed to do now?”. I was calm, in the cloud of our perception spot.

“Nothing”, he said bluntly. “As I said, you are prepared. Our journey has come to the end”.

Images from the past, rushed around my mind.

Childhood, when I first met him. Seven years old girl, sitting at the same place as now. Afraid. Through the years he taught me so much. He helped me in numerous situations. And now, in my middle thirties, as a grown woman I reached the end of guidance.

“Thank you”, I said. That was all I could say, nothing more, nothing less. It would be inappropriate to move on with more words said.
We already said it all to each other in the past years.

“Remember, as unique you are, you are not indestructible. Your ability is not unbeatable by the universe. Accept that certainty, as you have accepted all of my coaching before”.

No remorse in his voice, no sadness because of our last goodbye. I didn’t expect it, though.

He stood up abruptly, the black coat and that familiar boots glittering in the moonlight.

He turned around and gave me a last look into the depth of my soul, and just vanished into the deepest parts of the woods.

In my mind, I heard “Goodbye”, and that was all. Nothing else to add, to say, to calm me as he did before. It was the end of our journey.

The path

Waking up was painful. Distorted mind, scattered thoughts. The usual feeling after our meetings. I got used to that over the years.
Coffee had brought me back a little, but still, the restlessness did not subside.

In the street, walking to the work, I was always looking at the pavement, not wanting to view someone in the eyes.

Because, if that happened, I could hear all of the person’s thoughts, the resemblance of his past, and being able to see his future, which was the hardest part. I have seen enough pain and suffering, and felt it with my whole body. I could not deal with it anymore, it was just too hard.

My ability was not a gift, but a curse. I have been grateful to my teacher to lead me and coach me how to control it, but sometimes it was not possible to break up the contact with the other person, and that was bothering me.

At the work, I was completely serene. I did all of my tasks, arranged meetings, concluded the unfinished work from the last week.

My co-workers were all blocked for my ability. I did that a long time ago, after realizing how much distraction there is working with a group of people and being able to feel what they feel, to hear what they think every time I looked someone in the eyes.

As the end of the day was near, I was resistant to go home. So I asked one of my colleagues to join me for a cup of coffee in the nearby restaurant.

I needed someones presence now. Just for a while, just to settle my mind.

The coffee was terrible, but the chit-chat was relaxing. I laughed at some jokes; I smiled to the stories about his weekend barbecue failure due to his nervous wife and annoying neighbors. The story totally unknown to me, as I have never experienced it before.

I grew up as an adopted child in a home without emotions, cold, distanced and miserable. That is why I run away when I was seventeen years old, under the guidance of my teacher. And I accomplished everything I wanted, including the most important thing to me. My own home and my precious solitude.

The evening was over. My colleague returned to his family life, and I went to my confinement, tranquil and empty.

The Peace

In the next weeks, my life didn’t change at all. I did all the same things as before. I read a lot of books, though, long into the night.

I never ever gave a thought about the path that was unchangeable. Because, this time, it was simply unchangeable.

What must come, will come, and I could not revert it as I could before in the other situations, changing the future and avoiding the unwanted events. That’s why my life had so smooth path, with no unpleasant surprises, just the settled road that I was walking freely.

My teacher taught me not only to see the other person completely, deeply into the soul, but he taught me also, how the scenery of my future life could be changed. By finding other paths which led me into the wanted direction.

Only this time, the universe had not offered me anything, but only one lane to go.

I went to sleep, with no more forest and black coat who had given me the reconciliation my whole life.

The happening

“You missed the point”, said the stranger, I just met at the club. I went out on a Saturday night, to dance and chill out.
We were drinking funny cocktails and fooling around, talking about nonsense stuff, joking and laughing.
I forced him to stay the stranger to me, because I have blocked him, not wanting to know anything about him. I just wanted a night of fun. That was all.
“My place or your place?”, he said. I started laughing so loud that people around, looked at me with curiosity.
“Neither”, I said. “I’m just not into it”.
“Ok, ok, I had to try!”, he smiled. He seemed like a nice person. An interesting person. And he was a handsome guy. Pretty handsome.
But still, I refused.
I was avoiding any contact for the past ten years, because of fear of commitment, the fear of knowledge, the fear of the future.
He just smiled again as I said I had to go home.
“Too many cocktails! I feel dizzy already. I’m ready for a good night sleep”.

Yawning, I just left the club, leaving him totally surprised. “It’s better that way”, I thought.
The cab driver was silent, which I preferred, just listening to the radio the whole way to my apartment. I felt calm, safe and very sleepy. It was a fun night, at least for me, I thought.

Entering the apartment, the scent of the flowers surrounded me.
In the darkness, through the fade moonlight from the window, I saw a figure standing in my bedroom.

Long coat. Black, I assumed.

Boots, military I assumed.

I felt no fear as I approached him.

“It is you”, I said. Even in the dark, I could see his black eyes looking at me.
“I should have known it. That’s why the vision of the person was blurred, and the happening so clear. Because, it is you”.

Silence. Heavy as a stone.
“Yes”, he said. “I blurred it”.

I understood now. Everything was falling into one perfect piece of my life design.
“I tried to change the paths, but even I couldn’t”, he said with the perfect tranquility.

Closing my eyes, I knew. I saw it before, in my dreams.
What must come, will come.

For the first time, I felt his lips on mine. A kiss. Of love, understanding and sadness.

The warmth of blood on my hands, on my legs and his kiss still lingering on my lips.

He lifted me softly and laid me on my bed. I could feel the warmth of the blood surrounding me.
I had no strength anymore to open my eyes and look at him one more time.
But I knew the tears on his cheeks. Just as I knew the feeling inside of him.

What must come, will come.

Even unconditional love cannot stop it.

You’re My Most Treasured Mistake





As I stood there , looking at you leave into the grey and the forgotten world,

The tears weren’t falling.


I was numb

One big emptiness.


My knees were weak,

The Universe stopped , as I stopped breathing.


You choose, and I choose the same.

To tear us apart.


It was written that we must meet.

It was a mistake for us to meet.

The One above, the Universe, made all possible to bring us together.


To create a unique piece of art,

So soft, gentle, universal love.

And such a fabulous mistake.


I dream of you often and I know you dream about me too.

At least, we meet there, the kissing ghosts

In the non-existing world of lost souls.


Of all that I have done terribly wrong in my life,

You are and you will be always be,

My most treasured mistake.




The Tragedy Of Commitment



The tragedy of commitment.

Have you ever thought of commitment to one person as loosing other possibilities that may have come your way? Like parallel universes exist, and in everyone you choose someone else, something else, with unpredictable consequences.

I have found a great short novel/ article on the web that have described my thoughts to the fullest.

If I wanted to explain it, this would be it.
Below is the link to the original page, and all the credits go to the author, Andrew Boyd.

“The tragedy of commitment

Whoever wants something great must be able to limit himself.
–Wolfgang Von Goethe

Sometimes you are paralyzed with indecision. You can’t bring yourself to choose any one future because to choose one is to forsake the promise of all others. Yet not choosing is making you crazy. In such a state, drastic action is necessary. You must choose–and then, one by one, murder all the futures you passed over. Like a faithful companion you’ve cherished all through your youth, you must lead each future back behind the shed, and even if it looks up at you with those big eyes, dreamy with possibility, you must put the cold muzzle to its head and pull the trigger. And you must do it again and again for each future that competes for the attentions of your heart. Only then are you ready for commitment. Only then can you pursue the one thing which will, in time, and after much mourning, become all things to you.

The future is full of possibilities that I must shoot in the head.”- Andrew Boyd



Any thoughts about it?

The Childhood Lost And Found



A little plush bear pushed into the corner of a dusty, grey, dark basement.

Talking to the spiders and rats, sometimes cats if they come around, but cats as cats, they usually minded their own business, and were not interested in the chit-chat.

Teddy, once called The Muffin, as he barely remembers, was someones favourite toy.

It was a girl, he recalled, with the dark hair and a funny laugh. She used to put him in the bed before sleeping, tucked him in, hug him. When she was afraid, her hug was tight and trembling. He gave her comfort. The Muffin.

Now, dusty and forgotten, all that has left was his ripped fur, one eye and some memories of a better days.

How many time has he spent in that abandoned corner? He couldn’t tell. No one was coming into the basement for ages.

At first, he felt abandoned.

Then afraid of loneliness.

At some point he got used to it. A little sunshine spark woke him up every morning. That was a thrill, knowing that outside the Sun still exists.

One day, his peace was disturbed by abrupt door opening, running steps down the stairs, and harsh male voices.

They were complaining about the amount of trash that needs to be taken away.

Muffin heard a word “selled”. The house was selled. And where is he going to end?!

The rumbling started. Piece by piece, every part of the basement was cleaned up.

All the stuff he used to look at so many years just vanished in boxes.

As same as he did. Thrown into the box, together with the broken porcelain doll, old newspapers and an old radio.

The steps carried him out into the sunlight. Blinded, he breathed the fresh air, forgotten scent of open space and a freshly mowed loan.

The truck was roaring and the boxes were literally flying into it. The guys weren’t kidding, they have cleaned up every corner in an instance.

And then, in all that noise and turbulence of sounds, he heard a voice. Known voice who once tucked him into the bed. The voice was grown now, but still, it was the same laugh, the same tone.

He could not speak or move, but he wanted so desperately just to see her again.

One of the workers started arguing. The other was shouting at loud. Soon, they pushed each other, starting a fight.

The box flipped over in that mess.

Porcelain doll broke apart. The radio ended up on the grass, the wind lifted the old newspapers right into the air. But the teddy stayed laying on the pavement. The Sun was directly shining into him.

The voice said through the light, stunned and delighted in the same time: ” Muffin! Oh, my little fluffy Muffin, there you are!”

And the familiar hands lifted him up into a hug never forgotten.


The Right Judgment- If You Love Someone, Let Him Go




On a warm summer evening, sitting on the terrace, taking my five-minute break in the long night shift in the hospital, I have enjoyed the summer breeze, silence, the stars above and my cup of fresh coffee.

Cigarette smoke was vanishing into the air, playing and making figures.


The sunset was near, I could feel it and hear it. The birds had awaken, by that I knew the morning is near.


He came on his break too.

I knew him from the hallway, I have met him in the elevator and that was it.

Without asking he sat right beside me. Silently, he took the cigarette, and sipped coffee.

I didn’t find that strange, him sitting beside me. It was somehow comforting.


“Good coffee, isn’t it?”, he asked. “Oh yeah, especially after such a shift…” , I replied tiredly.


“Why are you so nervous every time you see me? You are nervous now, also.”

I looked at him. Blue eyes with a look pointed directly somewhere where no one before could see me.

Right into the hidden part of me.

“Who are you?!”, I asked.


He just smiled. I felt totally unprotected in front of him. My all shields were down. And I just had met him.


“I am the one who knows you. You didn’t even noticed me a couple of times when you were working in the operating room. I heard you, I saw you. For me, that’s enough.”

“You’re fucking crazy!”, I said and started to laugh.

I laughed because, I could feel he was somehow telling the truth, and that sitting next to him is the right thing to do.

That he belongs beside me.


“Wanna go out with me? I’ll take you somewhere where you will really like it”.

“Ok…I will. But don’t tell me where you’re going to take me. Let it be a surprise”.

I left my cell number to him and get back to work.


We had the most amazing evening in my life, when we got out on a date.


After almost twelve hours spent together driving, laughing, dancing in the open air concert, sunrise came.

We were watching it, how the Sun emerges from the horizon, in the silence, sitting in the middle of a meadow, on a slightly wet grass.


He kissed me without words. We have said all we had to, talking and talking the whole night long.

I was trembling while his lips touched mine. The universe stopped for a moment, and the imprint of his kisses and hugs are still here, in my mind, vivid as they are happening right now.


We were together for long two years. Long because we knew we couldn’t be together, but we were meant to be together.

We are the pieces that complete one another. Like two lost puzzles that match perfectly.


After two years of  love, struggle and the crushing pain in the end, we separated. We knew why. We just had to do it.


I love him, and always will. He loves me,and he always will.


Wherever he is right now, I wish him nothing but the best.

As long as I live, his eyes will be watching me while I sleep. I know that and  I can  feel that.


I really hope you are well, my love.

My little lost matching puzzle, I am really glad that I judged you perfectly, from the only one sentence, from the first five minutes when we had met.






The Room of The Lost Souls




Through the bright sunlight penetrating the kitchen window, I could barely see my son playing in the backyard.

Finishing the dinner, my thoughts were chaotic about tomorrow and stuff that needs to be done.

Not only that I’ve worked two jobs, but after recent moving into a new house, there were diverse stuff that had to be fixed around, repaired…I could hardly concentrate anymore, tiredness was consuming me.

“Hey, mom!”, Mark yelled from the backyard.

“What is it, son?”, I replied.

” I found a turtle, a turtle mum….look…”, said Mark running towards the house.

With his blue eyes and curly hair, breathing deeply from running, all messed up and dirty from the grass and sand, the picture of his father flashed through my mind. Briefly, I was lost in the foggy memory of someone who has been everything to me. Once.

“A turtle!”, Mark said, amazed. Eyes wide open with fascination, he held a small turtle in his hand.

“It’s beautiful!”, I said, ” but Mark, you really should put it back were you found it.”

” Why mom? Can’t I keep her?!” Disappointment tone and sad eyes. The cute face he had made with a purpose- I can get all I want. But not this time, I decided.

“Honey…the turtle lives there somewhere in the bushes…you will take her back. I’ll give you a little bit of salad to feed it. Turtles love salad. And when you get her back, leave it be. If she wants to come back here, she will. If she doesn’t, she wont come again. She is free, and she will decide.”, I said.

Heavy, dark silence suddenly filled up the kitchen.

Like a burden, I could feel it in my chest.

“What I said wrong?!”, crossed my mind. “What?!”

And then, Mark with his head nodded down, looking at the cracked tiles on the old kitchen floor, said:  “Just like daddy did?”.


When you move up into a completely new, strange town, you really feel like an alien.

I had been trying hard to blend in, but it was difficult.

The people were full of questions, analyzing me.

Surely, the rumors about a single mom with a son, was the biggest news amongst the residents. “At least, they finally have something to talk about”, I thought sarcastically.

The school was something else.

Mark found friends in a moment, and he was really good accepted in the class.

That was expected, though. Mark, a little blue haired freckled boy, with a constant smile on his face and full of energy, extroverted and funny…everyone he met was amazed with him.

He already had plans for a sleepover night this weekend, with a couple of his friends from school.

“It will be fun”, I thought. I like kids.

As a child I was raised in a house with three brothers and a sister, and there was always something going on,all of us acting like a crazy little bunch, exploring and playing around.

But, at the moment, going from work, my mind was overstretched with thoughts, plans and a shopping list.

I stepped on the road, heading for the grocery store, lost in my own tangled plans, I haven’t looked around.

Suddenly, the car drove out of nowhere, speeding right towards me.


Blue sky. Clouds. Spring breeze with a fresh scent of grass and flowers. And a stink of a gasoline, emerging from somewhere…and then the endless blackness.


Couple of months later, I was almost back in shape.

Concussion, broken leg and arm, two months in a hospital, all of that has left its mark on me.

Luckily, my best friend came to town and lived with Mark while I was recovering.

I knew her from the high school, a tiny, redhead energetic woman, now an established painter and artist.

She was always different, with her clothing style that would make you turnaround and ask yourself if the circus was in town.

A truly unique person, with a big heart and an open and sarcastic mind.

Pretty much like me. That’s why we considered ourselves more than friends, more as a sisters.

Mark was fine, he get used to live with her because he adored her, and when I came back we throw a party with a barbecue and  fireworks at the end.

Only three of us, standing in the dark, hugging like a little family.


Suddenly, I jumped out of bed.

It was middle of the night, moonlight looming through the blinds and making shadows on the floor.

The rumbling sound was coming somewhere from the house.

I heard my own heart beating like a drum, and felt hands shaking from a fear.

“Marie?” No reply. I whispered once more entering her room, “Marie?!”.

She slept like a child. Well, with all that snoring not like a child.

I shook her hand. “Marie!”.

“Whaaat?”, she asked half asleep.

“Don’t you hear that?!”, I said in fear. “What? I hear nothing….”, she slumbered and turned around in the bed.

But then, the sound filled up the house, like its going to tear it apart.

Marie jumped out of the bed, and before I was even realizing what we are doing, I was holding Mark in my arms, tightly.

“Mom, what’s going on?”, he asked. “I don’t know….but it’s gonna be fine. Just stick with me, ok?”, I said.

Marie was dialing 911 from my bedroom.

I was confused by the noise. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. The kitchen, the living room…I couldn’t tell.

Marie came and said that police is on the way.

With Mark half asleep in my arms, standing there in the dark of the hallway, I felt so lost. I was afraid, really afraid.


And suddenly, some kind of golden light appeared at the end of the hallway.

Like it was coming out of the wall. I knew there was nothing, there was a wall, and an entrance to a bathroom on the left side.

“Do you see the light also?!”, asked Marie with a trembling voice.

“I do”.

I saw the light. It was somehow attractive, warm, soothing. Like it wanted me to come closer. But I just stood there,barefoot in my pajamas, holding onto Mark.


“Beautiful……!”, said Marie and started walking.

“Stop! Stop Marie!”, I yelled.

But she kept walking, like she was hypnotized.

The light diminished a little bit and suddenly I could see a door.

A door? “There are no doors on that wall”, I thought confused. Marie was almost at the room entrance.

I kept quiet, wouldn’t say a word. I knew she will not listen to me. I could feel it. The door was too…alluring.

Like a warm yellow embrace.


A click. From the door knob.

A squeak. From the door opening.

Marie’s footsteps echoed in silence as she entered the room behind the golden door.

All at once, everything stopped.

The noise, the light disappeared.


But the door were still there. I could see Marie, her silhouette in the dark, standing peacefully in that room. She was silent, no words spoken.

“Marie?”. No answer.

Mark was sleeping in my arms. I slowly got back to his room and put him into the bed. He was tight asleep, mumbling something as he grabbed his favourite plush rabbit and continued sleeping.


In a split second I was back in the hallway. I looked towards the door, and yes, they were still there. And yes, Marie was standing in the room, silently, in the same position as before. But now, she had spoken with a soothing voice : “So much peace…such a beauty…”

I run towards her.

I didn’t think about anything while I was entering the room, with intention to grab her, and pull her out.

But once as I stepped in, some kind of vertigo appeared in my head…and I saw everything  through a light fog.

It was a room. With one window. And nothing else in it.


Marie’s face expression couldn’t be described by any other word,  but a pure bliss.

I could feel something infiltrating me, too. The serenity. The joy and feeling of a complete abundance.

I was astound and felt like I never ever want to leave this place.

We looked into each others eyes, feeling the absolute understanding of each other, as we were one. I could almost hear her thoughts.


With an euphoric voice, I asked hear: “What is this place?!”

“Something celestial…….”, she said, mesmerized.


We were standing there for an eternity, or it just seemed like that.

The sunshine was already appearing through the window, when I heard a voice calling me, from a distance.

“Mom? Marie? What are you doing?”, asked Mark with a sleepy voice from the hallway, holding his rabbit in the hand.


Abruptly, I felt like I was thrown out from a sleep. Coldness surrounded me. I didn’t felt the bliss anymore, but a threat.

I felt I had to get out of there, quickly.


My feet were heavy, and I was moving slowly, towards the door. “Don’t come near baby, please!”, I said.

But Mark, with his sleepy eyes, was walking to me, wanting his mommy for a morning hugs and kisses, like usual.


I was horrified. I knew somehow that he must not enter that room.

I tried to get out, but as much I was trying, it seemed like the door were more far away then before.

Finally, I got to the entrance.

But, it was too late.

Mark stepped into the room, as I was out with one foot inside.


Golden brightness.  Bunny lying on the floor. And the door closed.


I put the rabbit on the kitchen table. Marie was making coffee, singing silently.

Emptiness filled me instantly and I felt tears on my face.

“Why are you crying, for God’s sake?”, said Marie.


I replied silently: “The room. It is gone.”

“What room are you talking about? What’s gone?”, asked Marie confused.


“Everything, I said. “Everything”.