Dark Side of the Moon in Darxination

Dark Side of the Moon in Darxination

Breathe in the Dark

From Chapter 10. Scream

This music was the real thing. She wanted to think fantastic, but no, the immediacy of it filled the room with some sort of sublimated matter. Such music connected skies and earth. You walked in it and dreamed in it at the same time. You got the power to walk spaces, so much the ground under your feet, as empty indefinite spaces. You found yourself in the middle, as a kind of connector, the human connector turned all-powerful god. This brought back to her mind the idea of meekness. Why on earth had she imposed that interdiction on herself, when music made her powerful? It could be that she couldn’t handle that power. Or rather, had painting been more at hand for her? Maybe so, as simple as that.

Ah, this music again. It was empty spaces she was breathing in. Her senses were like particles of light traveling meadows, meadows of tellurian life, meadows of cosmic silence, endless meadows of her dark self. With this music, dark became light, dazzling light, a supernova expanding.

This is your piece,” Paul said with firm conviction.

“Oh, Paul, I love you for that. Yes, don’t you feel like breathing in a kind of all-alight universe?”

“I do, dear woman. I want to breathe in the universe with you,” he said half-jokingly and half-earnestly.

They were moving slowly in the middle of the room, in a light embrace. Carola was weeping. Life seemed to be happening so close. Why did that closeness feel beyond her touch? Beyond words, and beyond screams. She could not bear the beauty of that music. Deep down, she understood she would never be able to paint anything as true. Paul saw, but did not ask, just let her have her cry. He might be thinking the same — that music was above all means of expression.

Mon-ne-eey. That call brought Carola down to earth. The brisk energy of the song started doing a bit of rehabilitation work on her damaged senses. But the rhythm was too powerful, beyond-her-bearing powerful. She pushed herself out of Paul’s embrace, mad again. It was getting dark, and the electric sounds seemed to be the only source of light.

The next moment, she was bathing in a lake on the moon. A saxophone was playing to her cold ears from earth, a sweet male voice. “Us, us, us, us, us…” It sounded like a lullaby chanted to her many egos. “Them, them, them, them, them…” They were on the other side of the moon, her anti-egos. How despicably maddening.

“Why did you stop the music?” Carola shouted.

“Enough. This isn’t doing you any good.”

Paul hugged her warmly and she complied, defeated. He kissed her. She complied. Tiny red lights were flickering on the music console. At the back of her mind, music was sighing away. She sent a ripple of love to the silenced electronic equipment on the opposite wall, which multiplied and rolled further away toward all the electronic equipment in the world.

Then, quite strangely, those same ripples of love came back toward Paul. She felt like bathing there, inside the circle of his powerful arms. She offered her tongue — the ultimate carnal materiality.

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