15 March 2013
(.. A short story)
A guy walked over to me today and thanked me for the other night. He told me I had changed his life. His face looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I wanted to go after him, so he could indulge my questions, but I didn't feel the need to. Somehow it felt alright. Though at home, when I started to think more about it, I was left puzzled. What did he thank me for? What made him change his life that he felt the need to look me up to show his gratitude?
Next morning, waking up, there was a note on my nightstand. I couldn't recollect putting it there or even writing it. I took the note and started thinking about the one word that was written on the paper. It was not an ordinary word, in fact, you would only know this word if studying ancient history was your hobby or your work. For me it was both. For this reason I must assume that it was me who had written it. Who else shares my passion strongly to know about the existence of the word? Yet again, I was left puzzled.. This person had also entrance to my apartment and that without my consent. That last thought made me quiver. Someone else, someone I might not know of, had been in my apartement! Was it perhaps the odd guy with whom I had this strange, unknown encounter the other day?
There was a chunk of my memory missing and I needed to know what had happened that night. Still, I wasn't thrown off by it. I didn't even experience anger or anxiety. A touch of serenity went throuhg me. Does this mean I did something good? Or was I terribly off? He can give me answers. I need to find this man, and I think I know where to look...
© Ceyda Gundogan 2013. All rights reserved
Midnight Dwellers • Opuss № I