The moment I turned the corner of our street the sweet scent of Mexican marigold inundated my head and a crisp and nostalgic chill ran up and down my spine and out through each one of my limbs... My step did not change: same rhythm, safe force, but in each step a different fear, a few certainties and one truth; you do not own me. I have been freed from your caged way of caring. Suddenly I hear my favourite melody on a distant radio, becoming louder the further I walked down Placencia.
The light gradually shifted into that perfect golden hue you call “the perfect time of the day” making time slow down in an almost sedating way... and then from under a market stall inadvertently your silhouette walks a few steps ahead of me turning into the opposite direction of my steps... was it you?
There is no way. No possible way. I realize I am not breathing, as the bass in my salsa is playing at the same volume my heart beats. ‘Breathe!’ I scream to myself from under what seemed a cloud that melted into a rabbit hole that I suddenly fell inside of...
I feel sick for a few more seconds... but following the music and the aroma of freshly pressed coffee I am able to guide myself back to the ground beneath my feet. It’s very 'you and me' to lose our ground... all sense of logic and safety. And apparently now, even the most ridiculous reminder or look alike brings to me all the discomfort your actual presence could cause. I’m glad I left, I’m glad you can’t see me anymore and I am glad I don’t have to see you anymore. I can finally breathe. I am not under your claws like a helpless bird who fled her cage too soon, only to be tricked, trapped and eaten by you: the vilest of predators.
“Julia?”
I feel how my temperature drastically drops to zero, and the rivers of joy, desire and wrath unleash within me. I might pee myself... it’s your voice.