Here she is with her small case on her back, looking for dolphins to play to, without our child. Lonely without her child. Our son. Under this impeccable sky I am here again. This time I call her. She hears me and calls me by my name; how clean it sounds in the open air. ‘Gael, Gael is that you?’ Did she finally hear me that last time when I told her she could be all of them, just to let her soul fly out there in between the light horizon and the dark waters and pray for it to go to another musical body? I can come out of my hiding place now that I am God and just as visible as invisible. So close beside her that I can catch her breath. She touches me. Can she see me? I am not too sure. But when I talk to her she listens. Now she looks at me. The silver lightning in her eyes does not scald my nerves anymore.
I am free to show myself to her. She stands like a statue petrified by her vision of me.
Woman, let me help you this once, let me tell you what to do. Take off your clothes, dress yourself in the naked truth.
How magnificent they are: her feathered arms. I can hear the soft crackling of the fragile bones still growing into the pinkish inner nerve of her wings. You always believed in me. Now trust me once more. We are going to fall together. For good and evil. These are your rewards. Let me stroke them. Don’t panic if you can’t feel them, or see me. I am here. I am yours. I am God. You want to come with me. Just start your flight. There is only room between these rocks for one takeoff at a time. I am the gentleman – you can go first. Let me help you. There you go. Pity the flight is so short. Feel my hand on your back. There, there you go. Your choice: rocks or water, water or rocks. We both like to gamble. Remember?
She does not fly, she does not fall. Dissolves the cormorants, dismembers the seals, her wings spread as wide as far as foam on the eternal firmament.
She has left me behind.