Iron Cloud

Suzana Stojanović

I didn’t go. I just walked away because of a hollow cloud that looked like eaten iron. The cathedral came towards us and then turned west. I held my neighbor’s hand tightly. It all lasted a short time. We were protected only by a glass door.

“The future is coming again. We will go through the pictures all the time.”

This one won’t get to your city. Today the column was long and winding again. There was no space to correct. I typed the numbers the way you told me.

“I don’t know if we’ll win this time. In the past, I was always sure.”

It doesn’t matter now anyway. I hear rain in my head.

“I hear it too.”

I don’t recognize myself. I’m constantly wet. Water doesn’t stop coming out of my lungs. I’m becoming a source. I don’t know what belongs to a dream and what to me.

“It will pass too.”

It sails in a straight line for days. It can’t lift because of the weight. I hate it. My thoughts rumble when it approaches. Fear says it will fall. What will stop it?

“Nothing; what else did you dream about?”

I dreamed of a shadow and us in the end. I waved to the man and woman on the way. They sat far apart in the dust. They were tiny, as if they were coming from a screen. I think I met them once. And you smelled so good; cold, hard.

“You’re back on our bench again. There is no way you can forget it.”

I want to breathe without it. Why didn’t you ever tell me to avoid some places?

“You wanted to meet the world.”

There were clouds everywhere, but not hollow ones. This one will bring something. It comes out of the dream.

“Nothing can come out of a dream if you don’t let it.”

It can; prediction. I’m afraid it’ll take my legs, mine and others’. We won’t be able to run if it starts to fall. I can feel that lump in my throat from a few years ago. I am indistinct again. Some strange rays they aimed at us. The connections are broken.

“We won’t know until they tell us.”

I must not be afraid for long. It’s still here.

“It’s far. You think of the sea.”

And there I was afraid. Maybe I had better get on the waves. They just threw a tire at me not to drown, but they didn’t ask me why I was shivering when I touched the mainland.

“On land, everything is different. So, walk on the waves until it leaves.”

It wants something from all of us.

“Maybe it wants us to leave ourselves.”

We’ve already done that.

“The other day, I was looking at those childhood drawings of yours. And then you saw the future. They told you that you had a rich imagination.”

Everything always stopped there. I saw with the presence. It’s still here.

“It will always be there until you stop thinking about it. There was just a moment when all your rusty iron gathered in one place. Sometimes it’s best that way. You won’t have to clean.”

Why do you always understand everything?

“It’s because I know you.”

I know myself too, but this is something new. Someone wants to put an end to everything. I hear a creak somewhere in the distance. Time has turned the circle.

“These are mills. We’re still eating.”

That what ate the cloud will eat up all our supplies.

“It’s time to stop stockpiling. We wasted the whole wheel on them. I want to rest from fear. I don’t want to think, I just want to feel.”

Until we start moving around the axles, the memories will hurt. Everything is so simple, and no one wants to see. How loud should we be for someone to hear us?

“It’s time for silence.”

It will certainly not escape us, but the rest is starting to be missed. Everything became so pale and tasteless. I have nothing to point my fingers at. It may cover all dreams.

“It will not. We’ll still be here. Witnesses always exist.”