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Angie looked at the silhouette on the bike disappearing between cars and traffic. A voice in her head wished the person on the bike would be a friend she had been missing a lot lately. Another voice in her head urged her to do something, say something, scream, call, drive faster, follow the bike, make a phone call… react (damn it Angie!!!) and another voice, the one who keeps thinking that he is in charge of everything, asked her calmly, almost lifelessly to open her eyes and to see (not just look) that the person on the bike is a woman and not a man and therefore the voice repeated almost silently :”this person can’t be your male friend.” It took her a while to pay attention to the arguments and to the discussions of the voices. It took her a while to realize that the whole thing was just an illusion. She knew that he was far away, she knew that he promised almost a couple of months ago to get back… soon. One of the voices resonated in Angie’s head like an echo, and wanted to ask: “How soon?” but Angie never managed to formulate this question on her lips. She mumbled something that she can’t remember what it was. She even tried to formulate another good thought but something was missing between the voices in her head, her brain and her ability to externalize her thoughts using her lips.  And boy, she had known this feeling for years now. She had been unable to speak up. She always felt that there is something holding her vocal cords almost like an invisible fist and she felt this squeezing fist every now and then when she was scared or nervous or about to speak to strangers or to her nasty former boss…

She drove slowly from Heaven Boulevard (which wasn’t actually “a boulevard” but a small street constantly crowded) finding her way between countless cars, to Paradise Avenue. And again, she thought she had seen her friend’s face and his smile. “You miss him a lot and you are seeing him everywhere”, a voice repeated softly in her head. “You know that it can’t be him, he is not here”. “But maybe he returned…” another voice almost instantly tried to interject. “You are loosing your mind, little girl, that’s what is happening”, the gentle voice mockingly commented. “I am not, you are loosing your mind”. And here we go again… another fight, another argument, another never-ending discussion that usually leads nowhere. Angie wished she could take a break from her thoughts. But can she take a break from her thoughts? Can she leave them somewhere in a room? in an alley? on top of a mountain? at the bottom of a lake? in some forgotten book? on some dusty shelf among other souvenirs?  Can she put one (at least) of the voices in her head to sleep? to take a break? to calm down? to stop talking? to stand still? to breath deeply?

Thank you for reading 🙂

I wish you a great day 🙂

(By Zeina Gabriel)

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