Remedios Varo
I follow you here. You aren’t looking. I make no effort to hide sliding along behind each step you take. I listen in on the phone call with your mother. You aren’t alone checking the account balance at the ATM. If you feel the need to change your password because somebody is looking, that’s me. I won’t take your money. I don’t need it. Whether you believe or not makes no difference to me. There is a slight pressure inside your left temple. Your hand comes up to massage the spot. On it’s way down, it reaches for your keys. Trying to change it’s direction doesn’t work. It only makes the pain in your temple spread deeper into your head. You insert the key into its designated lock. The click echoes across the empty brick patio. You open the door you never paid much attention to. At the rear of the small alcove you want to decorate with an assortment of tulips or roses. Pinks and yellows would have looked nice in here. There is a small window near the top. You see it for the first time. I’ll tell you a secret, my friends and I put it there while you were asleep last night. We get around much more freely after the sun goes down of course. I am not alone. There are more of us than you know. There are fewer of us than you might expect. We will never meet, not how you expect anyway. I can’t look you in the eye and you won’t hear my voice speak the word “Hello.” Trust me when I say I know you about as well as you know yourself. That’s why I have no qualms completing my intended task. Don’t beg or waste energy pleading for mercy. I took part in every cruel event of your existence. Each knife thrust and bat crushed skull, I assisted your arm in its swing. None of these were my idea, that part was all you. I remained a passenger for the ride until today. Enough time traveled that I definitively know this is the right, the proper thing to do. Can you hear the lock latch home? I made the window for you as a kindness. This is for your soul to look out on the world and remember. The rest of you will follow me. My passenger. My witness.
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