The beam of light dances through the darkness, more reckless and wild than usual, it seems. Until the flickering subsides and takes form in the gentle outline of a face, sketched on the screen by light alone.
Her face.
Her eyes that open.
And gaze at him.
Sculpted in light for eternity, preserved from death for ever and all time. Whenever and as often as he desires, he can project her into this dark room, into this dark life. A life whose wretched darkness only one thing can illuminate: a dancing beam of light on the screen.
He sees her pupils dilate. Sees because he knows precisely what she is feeling. Something that is foreign to her and so familiar to him. He feels so close to her. Almost like in that moment captured there forever on celluloid.
She looks at him and understands, or believes she understands.
Her hands grip her throat, as if fearing she will choke.
She doesn’t feel any great pain, merely notes that something is different.
That something is missing.
Her voice.
That unbearable false voice which doesn’t belong to her. He has freed her from the voice which suddenly took possession of her like a strange, wicked power.
She tries to say something.
Her eyes display more surprise than horror, she doesn’t understand that he loves her, that he has only acted out of love for her, for her true angelic nature.
But it’s not about her understanding.
She opens her mouth and it’s just like before. At last he hears it again, her own voice has returned! Her true voice, which is eternal and cannot be taken away by anyone, which stands outside of time and has nothing of the present day’s dirt and vulgarity.
The voice that enchanted him when he heard it for the first time. The way it spoke to him, to him alone, despite the many others sitting alongside.
He can scarcely bear how she is looking at him. She has gazed out over the edge, has seen everything, not long now and she will lose her balance.
The moment she goes to ground.
Her gaze, which is suddenly so different.
The premonition of death in her eyes.
The knowledge that she will die.
That she will die now.
No going back.
Death.
Has come.
To her eyes.