Desperate Remedies

She stands still on her couch in a dimly lighted room. She feels her fingertips are uneasy. She listens to time. E-mail notifications barely make the song of time audible. Tick tocks stir a sense of urgency, and this sense of urgency builds a nest on her fingertips, making her unable to tame time. Paralyzed by the uneasiness, she promises to take control of her life and falls asleep. Tick tock, tick tock, quarter past six, half past six. Beep-beep-beep. Brush and flush, brush and flush, ninety seconds. A tram every ten minutes. Jack Daniels, Marlboro, and Channel as seatmates. Here is the stock exchange, there is McDonald’s, You see here is the Parliament, and yes. Here is the McDonald’s again. Here's a café house. McDonald’s again. The story of mornings. The panorama of her life.

She stands still on her bed. She feels her fingertips are uneasy. Her mind tortures her soul, for her soul is as fragile as a leaf on a tree without roots. The need for self-transcendence arises. She looks through the window, neither can she see the stars nor listen to the wind. Long live the horns. Long live the peddler. Long live the whore in the corner. She promises to spend more time in nature and falls asleep. Tick tock, tick tock, quarter past six, half past six. Tram, office, subway, bus, living room. Tram, office, subway, bus, living room.

She listens, he talks, and she stands still. ‘I have good plans for us. I must work hard. I am in a situation; believe me, it is hard to think of love when you have real-life problems. Everything will be alright; I just need to get my life in order. You’ll see how things are going to be once I find a job, just stay with me. Please! You know what remains of a man without his dignity. You understand me, right? ‘She listens, listens, and listens until she forgets she exists. She understands. She promises to take care of herself. Tick tock, tick tock, quarter past six, half past six, quarter to seven. Decaf coffee and Coke Zero constitute her diet the next day.

A little girl occupies the realm of her thoughts. The little girl asks silly questions. To name a few; ‘How are you?’, ‘Who are you’, ‘How old are you’,’ What is the name of your best friend? She gets angry at the little girl. Does she try to ruin her life by asking these silly questions? As if they have any importance in real life at all. She is to be promoted next quarter, and this is the most important thing in her life now. She does not have time for these pseudo-questions. She does not promise anything. She realizes how good her life is. She does not have any real problems. She brushes her teeth for ten minutes, and her face for fifteen minutes. She forgets to take off her clothes and she sleeps. Tick tock, tick tock, quarter past six, half past six, quarter to seven, seven.

Miss, can you hear us? Are you okay, Miss? She is at a hospital. She stands still. Can you tell us what happened Miss? They look so preoccupied. She does not understand why. Miss, are you able to talk? Did someone hurt you? You were found naked on a lakeside by two campers. Miss, I must say you are lucky. Now can you please tell us what happened?

She inhales deeply, and a smile with empathy appears on her face. She looks so peaceful and carefree to the surprise of the rest of the room. Is she detached from reality? Is she a clinical story? They are thinking of all possible stories one might conjure. Then she starts to tell.

I was walking in a sideway. I thought I had walked more than five hours already. Where was I going? I did not know; I did not want to know. I wanted to understand what I was. The first thing that came to my mind was to see myself in the space. What my composition was?  I went through my pockets, and I found my keys, residence permit, credit cards, lipstick, and some paper money. I thought about what the best thing a person can do with all these could be. I was starving to death, and I bought only bread and wine. I guess I wanted to imitate Jesus. I guess I wanted to be the Jesus. I gave the remainder of the paper to a homeless and threw the rest of the materials and I continued, continued, continued walking. I remember feeling dizzy but there was a feeling of ecstasy started to settle in my fingertips. The sun had already started to set. My fingertips were ecstatic. Yes, my fingertips were ecstatic. I started to run. I ran in the direction of the woods.

The water greeted me—a pond. I listened to the whisper of a pomegranate tree near the pond, standing stubborn and generous. She stands exempt from time and space because her roots were holding the Earth. She was just fabulous. She told me that everything was okay and that I was feeling the uneasiness of a child whose mother just stopped breastfeeding her. She told me to be brave and encouraged me to start anew. She told me to do the first thing that came to my mind. I felt the urge to be naked. I untied my hair and left my clothes and my golden ring on the shore. That golden ring I plan to hand down to my daughter. I stepped into the pond. The pond embraced me. I felt the warmth of the first sun ray on a newborn's face. She was more than the breast; she was the mother herself. The moon was lightening the pond up. It lightened my breasts too and nurtured my eyes. I felt smaller and smaller, and I turned into a droplet. I became one with the pond.

 I do not remember the rest.