LJ Idol // Week 5 // Afterthought
Invisible Things.
[The airport lies somewhere to the west of Nicosia, intact but for the ravages of time. You peek into the terminal building, where the sun hits the lights in the ceiling, and just for a moment you can believe that they have been left switched on for decades.]
This is the Dark Beneath The Library.
This is the place.
[You are not afraid, but unnerved. It has remained closed since the 15th of July 1974. The years creep by.]
Go on.
(Every once in a while, a child, or a man, or a racoon loses their thoughts.)
Go on.
(I bring them here.)
[The airport lies somewhere to the west of Nicosia, intact but for the ravages of time. You peek into the terminal building, where the sun hits the lights in the ceiling, and just for a moment you can believe that they have been left switched on for decades.]
This is the Dark Beneath The Library.
This is the place.
This is where they wait.
[We can never go home]
[Our blood is cold and we’re alone]
[Our blood is cold and we’re alone]
Sometimes
(every once in a while)
a person
(a child or a man or a racoon)
loses
[We can never go home]
[Our blood is cold and we’re alone]
[Our blood is cold and we’re alone]
their thoughts.
Sometimes a person loses their thoughts and I bring them here, to the loudest cacophony of silence beneath the library, where the abandoned thoughts await their masters.
That is my job.
I am the Gatekeeper of Invisible Things.
That is my job.
I am the Gatekeeper of Invisible Things.
[We can never go home; we no longer have one.]
[You are not afraid, but unnerved. It has remained closed since the 15th of July 1974. The years creep by.]
Now we are at the door of the room, you feel more composed than when we were only approaching it.
(You won’t see anything.)
Go on.
This is the loudest silence you will ever hear.
You are not afraid of the dark.
These are the thoughts that were born too soon, or too late, or not at all.
(You won’t see anything.)
Go on.
This is the loudest silence you will ever hear.
You are not afraid of the dark.
These are the thoughts that were born too soon, or too late, or not at all.
[Our blood is cold and we’re alone]
They seek their solace here, in the dark beneath The Library.
Go on.
(Every once in a while, a child, or a man, or a racoon loses their thoughts.)
Go on.
(I bring them here.)
[The things you put in your head, they will stay here forever]
Go on.
[An aeroplane, abandoned on the runway and caught in the crossfire. Look closely; count the holes.]
[We can never go home]
[An aeroplane, abandoned on the runway and caught in the crossfire. Look closely; count the holes.]