Recovered 4 A.M. (ephemeral)

yellowRecovered 4 A.M. (ephemeral)
by Harutyun Catalyst
The chlorine is bleaching the dirty carpet, slowly, and the scene is electrifying the twisted body, emptying the eyes. A smile on the face, and running to the door, opening the door for invisible friends. I pick up from the floor a doll; I stare into her frozen eyes. Hailing, slapping. I slap the face of the doll several times, until the wall flows over with strange images, yellow shadows flow over the wall, while I’m slapping the face of the doll. The face of the doll wears out, and the shadows that are on the wall become more yellow and savage. I bite the face of the doll now, the body electrifies and her eyes glitters, as if wet. A sweat pours and fills the place with a smell. The skin is reddened. The eyes are wide open. Isolation.
A Feminine handwriting themes my existence. My existence confines between four walls, a trip to the childhood, biting on the lips…and confusion. Confusion makes sleep disorder, and cold stares at the radiator. I bite my lips more and imagine myself as a child, who’s unable to sleep. Frail child I watch myself in the mirror that framed with beech wood, surrounded with wood chairs and tables amusing my existence, making sleep disorder, and sleeping voices waken up inside of me, urging me to communicate silently with these wood furniture. Error/settle, settle clear. In time I dazzle by these wood furniture and start talking. I am alone in this room, wet. A.J, F.K and R.L send me black plastic bags. I wear them on my head and watch the darkness, the darkness which is eating my moment, turning my moment into a nightmare… and I’m still a child, dreaming of chocking the doll that’s sleeping on a double bed.
O O O these circles will be filled in the morning, these empty circles will be filled in the morning with any color you want. Frail, fragile, feeble.
We prepare candles, red color, that they dissolve as our breaths and they reflect a huge hole inside ourselves. Gazing into the candles. We the four alternate on cursing the doll, hate and despair on the double bed. And a strange sign comes of me. I pour cold water on the doll, and she opens her eyes, shivering. I fill the glass with cold water again and pour the water on the face of the doll, her eyes get closed frighteningly, and I fill the glass with cold water again from the bottle that’s on the wood table. I pour the water on the face of the doll, her eyes get opened completely, reflecting my face inside her eyes, and my face is pale and sleepy inside her eyes. I take a knife from the table, and I risk my existence to pluck out the eyes of the doll. A.J, F.K and R.L are watching me through the light of the candle how I’m shivering, reddening, seeming as a frail child, unable to read, unable to understand, I feel only the sharpness of the knife, and the weakness of the doll. I go back and watch the pettiness of the wood furniture that I’m surrounded with, and the doll is threatening the scene ferociously, and with a heavy smell, staring at me in contempt, and my heart is beating very fast.

0 thoughts on “Recovered 4 A.M. (ephemeral)

  1. Lots of subconscious and symbols here to wrap one’s mind around. Coming to grips with childhood innocence can make or break a person I think. I like how this piece is so aware of the senses which allows the reader to see, feel, hear, smell the tension of its confessor. Thx for sharing!

Leave a Reply