3 A.M

3 A.M


I would've never pictured myself here, going up and down this old bridge somewhere in the city center. my hands are shaking from the cold weather, making it almost impossible for me to hold onto whatever it was that was in my hand. I remember not being able to feel any part of my body, partially because of the cold but also because of... well.. I really don't remember... it's been so long. I'm pacing back and forth trying to keep myself warm, but the only thing it's doing is making me dizzy and soon I'll find myself gripping onto my hair from the dreadful headache it has caused me.
I was so stuck in my own thoughts that I almost didn't notice the shaky small figure also on the bridge, a little further fro me, towards the other end. small hands placed onto the railing, fingers lightly tapping onto it as if in the rythm of a song she had stuck in her head. I moved towards her, but with every step I took it only seemed as if she was further away.
1, 2, 3 here come the headaches. you should've stopped pacing, Sofi.
she turned around and for a second looked at me as if she'd never seen anything like myself, with the most puzzled look on her face.
I don't even know what followed. it could've been days or months or simply a few hours. all I know is that I ended up in a room completely unknown to me, surrounded by an unfamiliar scent lingering in the air.
And as we sat on your old mattress, holding onto our cups of tea that were so hot they burned our hands, I found out that we had nothing in common- not even a favourite song or same coloured socks. You had red hair that flowed in the wind even when it wasn't windy and as you stood up straight, wearing your baggy white sweater I thought to myself that you were in fact, a modern Greek goddess. You hated watching television and prayed before each meal and I swear we never even had a heartbeat in synch but somehow in some way, at 3 A.M., on that faithful, cold autumn day, we were both holding onto the railings of the same bridge, watching the same course of water flow right beneath our feet, both unaware of each others presence.

Foto: Anouk Serban

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