A room dominated by darkness. A hand resting against the cool glass. The somber hour before sunset when ends and beginnings are entwined. Her figure is accentuated by the contrast against the window. What lies beyond is saturated with life, what exists behind it is a vacuum. Where does her mind go when her gaze lingers and her body becomes rigid?
Lady behind the glass, what do you see?
A fetus floats in space, surrounded by radioactive decay. A newborn’s lungs stretch as he gasps for a first breath. A mother, numb from the pain and surrealism of the situation, holds the infant while slowly shaking her head to get rid of the unsettling thoughts that a new born looks older than it really is and how she can almost see him start to die. Headless children ride a euthanasia coaster, arms flailing, clothes flapping; you can nearly hear their screams as the ride plunges into Lethe. Consciousness erodes mid-sentence.
You can barely keep from disintegrating.