H regretted that nothingness does not have a form to dream about. H was used to dilemmas after chasing them for the past three years, trying to track her steps to unknown. He knocked all the doors of his consciousness to understand whereabouts of her soul.
John the neighbour, started to be worried about him long time ago. He had stopped to go to the quiz nights after Angel died, never popped by to have drink, to read the papers. What about that stranger’s confusion in his face when they bump into each other on the street. “He changed Sophie” John said to his wife many times, “He changed so much that, he is now like a new man in town.”
He continued to call himself H imitating the breeze, the breath… ‘H for nothing’… hoping that it would help him to erase who he is and to comprehend the nature of nothingness. He believed firmly that if he ever fully becomes H, he would have the freedom to move around quietly. Sensing, seeing things with curious invisible eyes… He called himself “H” so many times that he stopped answering people calling him “Adam”. “How ironic” he thought “It is such a long way to go from Adam to H for nothing.”
That night before he goes to bed he opened the bedroom window wondering if he could see the full moon. It was not there yet. He left the window and curtains open to let the moonlight reach somewhere in the room, after going over the roof. He imagined cold silver touches pouring into his skin and hoped for the moon to find the open window. He went to bed feeling silver.
“Angel, how have you been?” She didn’t talk, only smiled coquettishly. She was holding a red balloon and walking through a dark alley towards the cemetery, when they met in the dream. He couldn’t believe his wife was flirting with him. He tried to talk again but he couldn’t. Only a breeze, with no voice, a breath expanding in the air came out of his mouth. He cleared his throat and took deep breaths to calm himself with no luck. He remembered the petrol station on the main road and started to run there to find some water. His throat was blocked. Her giggles followed him along the alley they walked together, while he was running. Questions flooded into his mind “How did she not recognise her husband?” “Do I not look like myself?” He wanted to find a mirror to see what he looked like. He bent to the side mirrors of the cars stopped in front of the station,to see his face in the mirrors. Mirrors reflected nothing back, they were too dark to show anything. In the whole strangeness of the situation he suddenly suspected that he was in a dream. He must have found Angel before she reaches the cemetery. He ran miles long. His lungs were going to explode, his legs became numb. He got exhausted and collapsed with pain of losing her again. They could stay in that dream forever, he could wait for her in the alley. His despair became unbearable that he woke himself up. He tried to go back to dream, but he had lost his sleep.
H walked to the window to have a sight of the moon. “Here you are!” he said seeing the moonlight falling to the rear garden. He shivered with the silver touches, feeling both the moon and the grass and the exact spot where they met. How he could perceive them both? A silver shiver expanded from his torso and arms to his head.
He exhaled “Hahhhh”.
Neither the moon nor the grass, only the space in between would perceive both. Only invisible eyes of the space could comprehend the touch.
He wanted to become that seeing eye, moving around the all possibilities and layers of his mind. Maybe then he could find that dark alley and stop her before the cemetery. It wouldn’t matter even if she doesn’t recognise him. He would definitely convince her to have a coffee together at the petrol station. “Red balloon…” he smiled and filled with silence.
“As I turn from Adam to H, I have not actually changed, I am only lessening myself. I am the one blocking the space. Can I ever have enough silence to turn into a hole an emptiness on earth, to replace myself with?”
H went back to bed and it was 3 am in the morning. This time not wishing for turning to nothing, but slowly accumulating the nothingness inside him…
“Apparently nothingness is not something to become but accumulate. As Adam transforms to H, I accumulate the nothingness.”
He closed his eyes and saw a big temple rising above the pillars, he heard a reed flute playing far far away.
He could hear the breath of the flute player carried with the notes. The notes turned into a vibration and the breath became a breeze. Breeze moved through the space between the pillars.
He slept imagining that temple.