Light

(In the bg: Fix You by Coldplay)



Black and white. Hard edges, like paper cutouts.
Softened with shades of grey. Grainy.
Like the rain hitting against the windshield.

Behind the wheel of an antique.
Black. Shiny.
It crawls so slowly on the uneven tar. Soaked.

Left the place of mirrors.
Grand. Spectacular. Empty.
Just mirrors.

Occasional flashes of light. Fills the interior.
Harsh. Sometimes gentle.
Nudges on.

The map on the floor, unused.
The invisible thread beckons. Yet so fragile.
Where to? Black. Or White.

Does it matter?
No more mirrors.

Does it matter now?