Assignment: What do these texts suggest to you about idealism and truth?
Creative Piece from photo depicting a young couple in their side mirror. The photo was taken by Elliot Erwitt.
Theme Statement: Upon coming across an ideal, yet unattainable reality, an individual will form a bias towards conflicting truths. instead choosing to direct their focus to the tantalizing lie in front of them
It was Mina who put into words what I have felt for ages. We would stand atop a cliff, hand in hand, and she would ask if I wanted to throw myself over. At first I thought it was a ridiculous question. Then I learned to be grateful someone else understood, it wasn’t to die, wasn’t to bring about pain. Just out of pure curiosity. What will happen? How long will it take? Will it hurt when I hit the bottom?
I am reminded of Mina’s face as I am parked up here, and of how I miss it. There is something about a woman’s face that you remember, most bleed into a crowd. You see so many glaring down at you telling you to brush, floss, eat, and sleep that one loses count. So, remembering Mina’s is a feat. It is easy enough to recall, not a beauty queen, not plastic. I think I was in love with her, or infatuated, obsessed. After the memory of the face, comes the body, then the voice. Yes, it was love.
The sun is setting, a final ray hitting my side mirror and striking my eye. I blink, and opening my eyes, see movement behind me. Animal-like panic hits first, then a mock bravery. I’m alone, so something must have fallen. I root through the back seat, inspecting for damage, looking any little thing to answer the question my panic posed. Then I hear it, the side door opening.
My head still embedded in layers of bags and luggage, I rise. Fear subsides when I see a woman’s shape slipping into the passenger seat.
The woman moves into the light of the last ray. I blink.
It’s Mina. It looks like Mina. It is Mina the way I pictured her after she left. The way I wanted her, the way she never was. It’s Mina sitting in my car, in the red dress I loved and she hated, with kohl eyes and blood lips. Blood lips pulled tightly into a smile around teeth-that-are-too-long.
How did she find me?
The smile moves into a kiss, a kiss that lands on my lower jaw. I haven’t shaved, my face all rough. But she just laughs, kissing me again. As she comes ever closer, I catch a glimpse of us in my mirror. There we are, just as the last bit of sun had been only a moment ago. She’s real, a reflection is proof of reality.
She hasn’t spoken, and I miss her voice. Please let me hear her voice.
She slips out of the car again, still silent, yet beckoning. She stands in the headlights of my car. The smoggy light doing her the ultimate justice. The sea wind breaks up the perfect hem line of the dress, allowing a perfect leg to breathe. I blink.
One of the legs is twisted, bent, bloody, and broken. It snakes out from under the dress, a bag of skin filled with bone. I blink.
Her legs are long and perfect, as I remember them. I blink once more and follow her.
She leads me around the car, and out across the the sand. The red dress billows out behind her, it must be sweeping away her footprints as she walks. There are never any left behind her. Like an obedient dog, I trail behind, captivated by her. Every so often she turns to make sure I’m still following, smiling with her too-long-teeth on display.
We have been walking for at least an hour now, trudging through sand at the edge of the cliff. The car is far back I couldn’t hear it even if the alarm went off. The sun has fully set, and the twilight tinge has abandoned us. I’m tired, my legs are sore and my lungs heaving, but I wouldn’t leave her for the world. An invisible leash has been strung up between us, with her silently, and constantly, tugging.
The lead stops pulling, and the journey ends. We’ve arrived. Where, I don’t know. I’m just enchanted. She turns, smiling one last time. I blink.
There is blood running down the front of her face, it matches the dress. I loved that dress, it always looked so good on her. She really was beautiful.
Lips pulled tight, she points out over the cliff. The outstretched arm breaks in the middle and wrist, but stays. Almost like a gnarled tree branch. I blink.
It stays broken.
She really was so beautiful. To remember her beauty, I look down over the cliffs we loved together, gazing down at the sea that called us both. I see red. A red dress draped over the rocks below.
There she is.
Another Mina. Now there is two. My head spins.
She lies at the bottom of the cliff. Contorted. Lifeless. She must have fallen, layed there for hours while I didn’t come. Bones broken, lungs heaving.
Mina, I’m sorry.
I turn to the version of Mina, the pale shadow of the originals glory. Why didn’t I see that before? Why did I followed her here? I look up, only to see those lips pull back to show too-long-teeth. It is not a smile.
She reaches out to touch my face, the wrist snapping on contact. A limp hand touches my heart, and pushes. I stumble the ground beneath my feet changing from sand, to gravel, to shale, and then to nothing.
What will happen?
How long will it take?
Will it hurt when I hit the bottom?
Gif: We Heart It | Get lost in what you love. “Animated Gif about Cute in Beautyfull 😻 by Emy.” We Heart It, 3 Jan. 2019, weheartit.com/entry/152402999.