Evanescent Whisper

Once more they have widely opened the curtains, as if they don’t care how much pain this causes to me.

The dawning gives me a deep feeling of weariness from which is difficult to detach. 

The constant hustle and bustle of servants disturbs me to the point of almost losing my mind. The children’s prancing and laughter only represents torment every time I hear them. It’s already that time of the year in which the summer days are an endless hubbub.

“Is the bedroom ready?” – I hear Magda asking in the hallway, and the maid’s affirmative response confirms the visit of more guests.

How I miss the days when it was just she and I. Sometimes I think that at some uncertain moment I became a stranger in her eyes. When did she stop loving our peaceful exile? When did she prefer to entirely devote herself to the noise of society?

Certainly, from my dormer window I have noticed how the formerly small town begins to become a simile of a city.

I descend the stairs without being seen and I think I perceive the aroma of hot milk. That evokes my childhood and the memory of my mother serving the table. I haven't felt that warm happiness in so long! But an echo of sadness leads me outside the house and I head to the stables, a place where my presence is always welcome.

Robin, Merlin and Artemis greet me with cheerful snorts and neighing, it really seems like equine laughs! I run my hands through their mane and jaws without disturbing their breakfast so much as the sound of their hooves in the morning always made me happy. Sometimes I think only they show me real affection.

After a brief meditation I decide to return home and enter through the back door.

I'm surprised I don't hear the creaking of old wood under my feet or feel the pleasant heat of the oven and its burning wood, so I prefer to leave the kitchen.

Then I head to the main hall in search of Magda and over the table beside the settee I see a photograph of her with another man and two children I don't recognize.

What does this mean?

I throw the picture on the floor and when I turn around again, a black book catches my attention, It's a family photo album. When I open it from the end, I see that the last photo added is a portrait of me in a mass suit, sitting on the couch. Why have I closed my eyes in front of the camera?

I push it away in exasperation and turn around abruptly to face another inexplicable absurdity, I just can't see myself reflected in the living room mirror! 

What the hell is happening?! Why can't anyone hear me?! Am I an evanescent whisper? Why do my existence feel so ethereal?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The original story in spanish was posted on my first blog "Sebastian Screams". LINK: http://demiansebastian-screams.blogspot.com/2022/10/susurro-evanescente.html