04/03/2026
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(ā§Ļā§Ģ/ā§Ļā§Š/ā§¨ā§Ļā§¨ā§Ŧ)
Beside a vast highwayâlike a long scar carved across the chest of the earthâlies a solitary bench. No one knows who placed it there, or why. Yet it waitsâperhaps for a weary traveller, or perhaps for a confession.
I sat down and gazed at the road. Here, time is not merely the ticking of a clockâhere, time runs. It races in the sound of wheels, in trails of smoke, in restless motion. Small, large, strange and peculiar vehicles speed past in parallel lines. You may call them âvehicles,â or perhaps âlivesââbecause within each one seems to hide a heartbeat, a story, a secret fear or joy.
The horns are not merely soundsâthey are sometimes loud, sometimes soft cries or celebrations. As if someone is warning, someone is calling, someone is lost and searching for the way back, someone else is terrifyingly close to their destination. The sounds dissolve into the air and whisper near my earsâ
âWill you move too? Or will you sit on this bench, flipping through the ledger of your own accounts?â
Suddenly, a gust of wind shatters the stillness of my gaze. For a moment, it feels as though this chair, this road, this self of mineâare merely stage props in some unknown drama.
Without knowing why, I reach into the middle pocket of my shoulder bag. My fingers touch a notebook. As if it had been calling me. I take it out and absentmindedly begin flipping through the pages from the back...
Blank? Or is there something written thereâsomething I never wrote?
Suddenly, inside my head, a chorus like the buzzing of countless insects risesâlouder and louder. I force my eyes shut... and in the very next moment, everything stops. Silence.
A dim light all around. This highway feels one-wayânot outward, but inward. Where does this road lead? No one knows. Perhaps not forward, nor backwardâonly deeper and deeper within...
(05/03/2026)
