Fragment from Boaz Koriander’s Diary / Salva me ab ore leonis
Fort Worth, 23 [illegible] 1980
The same hotel. I sit on the edge of the itching bed staring out the window into nothingness and never, a desert of gravel under a tar-coloured sky, the end of days, the blackness that reveals itself when you peel away the last of the masks, didn’t you know? it’s masks all the way down…
A body soundlessly plummets through the view, iridescent mist of an evening dress enveloping a future corpse, the clear-cut choice of someone who couldn’t handle the mirror any more and thought all the syllogisms through to their ultimate splinter & lead conclusions. Opting out of a raw deal, as Walter F. would say.
There’s a surprisingly soft bang, rubber pavement. Dogs and car alarms blast away. People scream. Hands press into the shitty mattress—my shirt is thicker—and force me off the bed. I slide the window open and look up first, as if it could be raining suicides. My skin-covered skull bends downward where the status quo has reinstated itself. Silence. The noise has seeped away to tragedies where it’s needed more. I inspect the street and see nothing: no body, no blood, no dented sidewalk, just the people people people that keep hurrying on their wheels from task to duty, upright shadows that contribute to Normality instead of sitting in cheap hotel rooms wondering whether it’s too early to start drinking, dry mouth sand mouth ash mouth. Nothing is true, everything is permitted and I can only venture outside with my sunglasses on. Nothing is whole, everything is collage.
As I hang from the window I see, somewhere in the corner of my eye, a sweeping haze of colour, like a company of parrots taking off in fright, like the glare that lingers on the retinas when the television’s been on for too long. I leave the haze to its path, don’t need to see where the colour will retreat from the world. I know that I witnessed something so real, so actual, that it could only exist for a moment. The world can’t bear this much reality. The woman decided and died, her body leaked from this reflection, leaving a burning lack in the surface of this nothing.
Rest in peace, mirror spirit, good luck in the next round.