Page 89 - NyghtVision Magazine Volume 3 #2

dle the teacup, possessively pressing my hands Thoth has yet to stir. Silent, save for the soft
against the heat of the porcelain so that the chill whisper of my laptop, the room awaits another
that clings to my bones might subside. dawn while I struggle to hold on to the nyght.

And so on this nyght, restless as I am, I brewed The heart is a restless wanderer. And I wander.
a cup of tea and brought it here, setting it next Restlessly. Relentlessly. I wander as though
to my laptop. The cat has claimed his place on consumed by a hunger that cannot be satisfied.
my lap and—save for the occasional indignant No place, no time, no person, perhaps, can still
lecture when he is disturbed—is sound asleep. this heart of mine. "Once I learn the names of
So soundly asleep, in fact, that I confess there the streets, it is time to move," I joke. I have
are times when his weight causes my legs dis- said it many times, this pretense making light
comfort, however light he may be. of the curse that has taken hold of me. They
laugh, though I have spoken more in truth
In the birth of this nyght, another day is dying. than in jest. I desire, it seems, to be at home
But I shan't sleep. Not tonyght. The question everywhere—and therefore, I am at home no-
my friend never asked still haunts me. It haunts where. "My goal," I once told a friend, "is to be
me so deeply I cannot let go of it, cannot erase dropped into any city in the world and know
it from my consciousness. I find it impossible to exactly where to go and how I will get there."
lose myself in the smoky darkness curling and
rising from the teacup. v v v

I know enough about Mark’s past to know that "I know why you wander," he said as he at-
he understands the need to wander. In my case, tempted to walk across the dorm room. I was
this need was exacerbated by the severe abuse sitting at the small table that we had placed be-
I suffered as a child. Wandering was the only tween our desks. The room was narrow, so in
way I could stay safe. As risky as it may have order to use the table, we simply swiveled our
been, in my mind, the perils I might encounter chairs around, turning our backs to our desks.
while wandering the dense wooded areas near- I had just brewed a pot of tea, and was deeply
by were far less life threatening than the beat- engaged in what I was reading.
ings that awaited me at home.
I knew he had been drinking. He often drank on
While I can't speak for Mark, I personally can- Thursday nyghts. I made little effort to look up
not wholly attribute my need to wander to the at him. He made it to the table, pulled back his
abuse I suffered as a child. It isn't that simple. desk chair, and clumsily sat down. He was quite
It isn't that easy. The calculus doesn't work. I drunk. So drunk, in fact, that he couldn't keep
do not wander—and I am not without roots— his head up. However, when he was this drunk
just because I was beaten and abused. But then he was often peculiarly lucid. Frank. Honest.
why is it that I wander? Is this not the question? Insightful. (And just as often, completely off the
From whence comes my restlessness? What is mark.) We had a perplexing and checkered re-
it precisely that I seek? lationship, as college roommates oftentimes do.
I knew better than to try to answer him when he
The nyght bleeds and the rose of its was drunk. What I said didn't matter. When he
suffering settles uneasily about me. was this drunk, he would do as he pleased, and
Cold and empty of life, the forgotten our past confrontations had taught me that it
tea languishes. was best to just let it happen—like the beatings

I suffered as a child.

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