We’re in the middle of nowhere. I’m serious. Empty, cold, cruel and vast, that’s how I would describe space, this deafening infinity spreading all around the only home I’ve ever known. I’m a third-generation occupant on this spaceship. My mother may have passed away when I was younger, but I’m still lucky enough to hear all of my grandmother’s stories about Earth.
inderella is playing on the television. It is an old VHS, although it is not old yet: we are in 2002 and the whole family is arguing, as always around those years. I say that the whole family is arguing, but it is not true.
The argument started the way arguments often do, on a Sunday afternoon during a family reunion. The day had been quiet so far, Clara and her dad had brought dessert and they were about to eat it in the living room, where Clara’s grandmother was bringing a tray with coffee cups and a coffee pot.
They hate me. I know they do. With their smiles, their laughs, they all seem to be quite enjoying themselves, and it seems so easy. They’re all talking over one another, as if there’s a competition that I’m not aware of, and the winner will be the loudest; it’s deafening!
So this is how it ends. With hundred eyes watching.
Traitors, cowards and innocents. All meant to be one,
Indeed you are. There is no salvation today.
Like the damned Adam and Eve,
I am bound to deceive
By the snake whispering
So, see he’s still stupid.
At first the trespassing goes unnoticed:
the shape shifts seamlessly
to the opposite side of its possibility:
what has been is no more
(was it ever?)