Harmony, my dearest angel


Suddenly, I began to feel strangely surreal. As if I were standing in the presence of a ghost
or loved one who had long since passed. So intense now, was this feeling of warm breath
upon my neck and the mild sensation of a woman's fingers moving across the borders of
my back in her most vulnerable hour. When I realized what was happening, I immediately
left the room and ran downstairs. Everything spinning out of control. As I approached the
fireplace, I had a complete emotional breakdown and fell to my knees upon the cold tile
floor. I began to tremble and could not stop the outpouring of tears. Harmony, I said
in a child's voice and waited for an answer that would never come.



Such loving bliss. One which had torn my heart asunder was laid to rest. So free are you
now my love to come and go as you please. To wander this earth or to abandon even I,
whom you said you never would. In the end, I would have not even a tombstone to visit.
Not to mention the beautiful picture of her, I used to carry with me in my back pocket.
One I can no longer find. I then remembered it was in the wallet, I lost last year.

Through closed eyes, I heard a very faint buzzing noise. There, I saw myself in a tattoo
parlor with the top of my head exposed. Looking at it from a philosophical point of view,
my outer shell seemed to resemble a hairy carapace as it sat like an ashtray on this oblong
table. This didn't seem to bother me in the least. As the sound grew louder, I saw a man
tattooing an image along the entire side of my cerebral cortex. Funny I thought as I inhaled
a tear; my brain looks like a hedge-apple. Through all this confusion, there was no pain in
the physical sense. However, in the emotional sense I had become distraught. I then saw
the scenario as I hovered invisibly from a distance. As the needle moved around the soft
interconnected brain tissue that I always thought would look ropy, like a bowel, I was able
to see an image forming. The more he tattooed, the more I saw until finally his work was
complete. He then picked up a small hand held mirror that appeared to be crafted of steel.
The flagrant blue metal was smooth yet shiny, and that stable composition which held
the liquid glass in place was truly something to behold!

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Not only did it show me the extent of his work in a lead contrast, but also, that the living ink
had begun to seep down into the encephalons of my neural fibre. From there it descended
down a single vertebra and flowed out around the spiral ganglion region. It was around this
time that I began to hear strange whispers. I wasn't sure what to make of this scene as a
whole, but I knew my subconscious mind had been awakened and was now in control
of the ship. What else could it be?

I only analyze the drug's effect, I don't study it in a lab.

As I continued to look, I found the likeness to be uncompromisingly convincing in every
detail of its alluring appearance. It was the image of my long lost love. As I continued to
mull it over, I would surely find that from the other side of Heaven, my lover had given me
a most generous bequest. Through careful observation, I could almost see in my peripheral
vision what appeared to be a woman standing. He then recapped my skull on its tiny cranial
grapples. This brought it back to its original air tight seal. Thank you, I said quivering, unable
to stop my hearts wanting. That incessant need to hold her in my arms again. Some wounds
never heal, no matter how much time passes. So now, I shall carry her eidetic image with me
forever, to gently caress in my final moments. The image of my beautiful angel will never blur
or fade, regardless of how many years may pass. And how was I to know that he could
only be paid in tears.

As emotionally taunting and arduously painful as this is going
to be for me to relive again, I feel this story must now be told.
Our story. . . Finally. 

Harmony was an aspiring artist who moved here from the San Francisco bay area, shortly
after the collapse of the psychedelic movement and the Haight and Ashbury scene dispersed.



Since the age of four, she had been living with her Aunt Sofia in Alameda, and had recently graduated
high school with top honors. At the age of eighteen she arrived and as fate would have it, her parents
house was located directly across the street from where we resided. Harmony's parent's had numerous
textile companies in India and her older brother Sanjit owned and operated his own antique furniture
store down in Stapleton for as long as I can recollect. I can remember going there with my grandparents
when I was only three. How the old sofas and dressers adorned the showroom! Several months after
her arrival, Harmony began to work there, and together they got along like two playful cats! All in all,
it was safe to say they were quite well off.

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Nataliya Maize - Your writing just amazes me. I honestly don't know what to say, but I
do feel that someone with your caliber deserves to be published, I feel like this is something
I could easily find sitting on the bookshelf of a Barnes and Nobles, or Borders. Great Job!

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PG 159) L'instant Hypophonique by Wojtek Siudmak

PG 160) The wild beauty by Raju