They say it makes your heart skip a beat when it happens. Too many, they say, could be fatal.
I’ve been sneezing 24/7 and my arms have started shaking; I could hardly control the pen that was no pen.
The eyeliner used, wrote with on a napkin 9:21 pm GMT+8 at the seafood place framed by coconut trees and the fine sand. And the sky lit with spotlights, or the stars maybe.
They said to me they would look back and smile, and why is that, really? They look back and smile. They smile at me because I haven’t caught up to them.
Sometimes I wonder; I don’t think I’m there anymore. The cobwebs are as stalactites, thick and heavy. They reach for the ground and they’ve done it for years, now. I wipe my nose and shut the lights. And it will hardly be okay.