The appointment

Powa was at home, alone, looking out the window. Nothing was in her mind, except for the uninterrupted raindrops sliding down the glass, creating and recreating enigmatic worlds outside. If only she had had the chance to rewrite her own story too, the details would have been far more colorful, the missing pieces would have clicked into place, instead of being buried in … A sense of not belonging was a burden that she had been carrying on her little shoulders since a very young age, and despite the passing of time, that feeling was still lingering as shades of disturbing memories.

Upon hearing the sound of the rain falling on the roof, her breath deepened and widened… If it were not for the noise of the red mailbox, the deepening and widening would have sustained themselves for a longer period of time. Instinctively, she was led to the umbrella. In the mailbox was a single letter, a black envelope with her name on it.

There she was, standing out on a rainy windy day, her long black hair falling forward on her good-looking face, her feet stuck on the ground, a hand tightly holding a curious letter... Abruptly, an impulse forced her to run down the sidewalk back home. In the silence of her aloneness, heart pounding and hands shaking, she glimpsed the golden letters seemingly moving on the black envelope as if clearing off little drops of rain…

Suddenly, her cell phone rang, the so long-awaited call finally arrived. As she answered it, a smile spread across her face, she dialed a taxi number immediately. In the meantime, she put the letter down on the small entry table with an uncaring gesture, neglecting to see wonderful glitters flowing through minuscule openings. She grabbed the keys, shut the door and took the taxi, quickly leaving a neighborhood wrapped up in the scent of the rain on the dry solid ground.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Atson was navigating through the roar of the traffic when, all of a sudden, his crowded mind reached a peak congestion. Invested in his boiling thoughts, he almost crashed into a car whose driver exploded in an upward roll of eyes, his right hand tightened into fist, the man was as if ready to punch someone. The horn blared loudly… Quickened breath, racing pulse, adrenaline spike, the doctor’s appointment was an irrefutable reality in a mind set to fight right back. Intentionally, Atson ignored the irritating thoughts, he was already rocking down the main avenue. Brusquely, he parked next to a skyscraper, slid out of the car and disappeared.

Rushing through the modern buildings, he was received by automatic sliding doors. Slightly disoriented and dehydrated, Atson widened his eyes and scanned the room in search of Powa, despite the invitation to take a seat and have a glass of fresh water. Rather, he began rocking back and forth at the rhythm of the ticking clock, tick, tock… shortening each second, tk, tk… In brief, the receptionist, Alician, was put under hypnosis, fingers fiddling her bracelet, eyes waving at his footsteps, short bursts of friction innocuously being sent to the unstable coat rack. It was not long before Alician’s body convulsed with the soundwaves of the strong fall, much as the stinging of Atson’s ice blue eyes hardened, blinded by daylight flood lights.

Back in its proper place, light brown hair shove back away from his face, Atson noticed an old lady being new to the scene, as if she had just been dropped there.

She was sitting stall in a comfortable antimicrobial chair in the right corner of the room, next to the literature racks, the sanitizing solution on the left. A beautiful heart-shaped face, a faked smile sweltering, thick glasses perched on an arched nose, behind which crinkled eyes were staring at him, all was tied to a sense of amusement. She was having a role in that peculiar scene, a man ready to shatter into million pieces, proof of dark bubbling feelings, was within her grasp. Without any benevolence, she offered her twisted interest for human despair overtly, which a voluptuous badge pinned on her tiny chest was reflecting clearly.

Atson could not had missed a gossip magazine, half-open, turned upside down on her lap, previously bought in the bookstore in the corner of the street, where Powa was rushing past.

Powa wiped her feet on the entryway floor mat, straightaway, her nostrils smelled a sweetly glamourous perfume coming from an absurd exotic plant full of tiny red flowers. Witness of a frozen moment, she was able to perceive time as a mere convention, a support for the transfer of some kind of allusive adversities. Promptly, Atson’s attention moved away from the strange old lady, a huge smile curved his mouth, whereas a honey welcome released space, giving the impression that the area grew larger.

Nearby, the old lady envied Powa´s elegance heightened by her long black hair tied back in a stylish ponytail, however, her eyes could not help themselves but be flooded with tears in the remembrance of her lovely Arabian horse, Blacky.

At a young age, she adored embracing the wings of the wind, loved getting in tune with Blacky’s free flow gallops across the fresh meadows, her wavy long blonde hair blending with the wild yellow flowers within the dance of vibrant sunrays. That was a long time ago, a time in which happiness filled her heart with dreams and Blacky’s presence. The horse became the family pride, the delight of anyone who was able to ride it, soon, the young girl was considered a professional rider.

Every evening, she would escort Blacky to the stable, feed him and brush its long flowing mane and dark fur as well as its long black tail with great affection. The friendship that grew between them was indescribable and inexplicable. Years went by, slowly the horse began showing signs of tiredness, a lack of appetite and a distaste for walks in the meadows. Nothing could be done and none were ready to resign to the harsh truth… Until that fatal day, when the grown girl was there to comfort Blacky in its last breath of life.

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Since then, both deep memories of that special friendship and an unbearable pain were unceasingly surfacing and competing for dominion. Throughout time, new facets were added, feelings became more tolerable in the balance of pain and love. Perhaps, one day, only love would remain.

A device beeping loudly in an old-fashioned leather purse awakened the old lady to the place she was in. By that time, she was already hanging her head low, the glasses had slipped off her face, and a handkerchief threaded with a faded black rose was sadly used to wipe away heavy tears and hide the badge in her chest.

Unaware of the noise, the couple gave themselves a wild luxurious adventure, the old lady faded into an optical illusion, mimicking the uncertainty of the following hours. They grabbed each other's hand, sat down and waited silently. From time to time, they looked at each other and understood themselves, caught the well-planned intentions they had both in mind, yet, the real question was ― Were they ready for what life had in store for them?

After a jaunt period of time, a file tightly held in her hands, Belisa, a highly skilled nurse and high-educated woman, led the couple to the doctor’s office. The space was decorated with fabulous pictures of landscapes, whose exposure to a rare daylight spectrum revealed a show of some ambiguous and nostalgic sceneries. They were but confined within the boundaries of those four walls as souvenirs of a past love story that was still lingering in the paintings.

Dr. Casly, a well-renamed doctor with a successful career, but most of all, a true friend and great counsellor, welcomed them on the brown leather chairs. Casly´s brilliant intellect was a reputation she was proud of, but it didn’t prevent the rapid gasps from rising and falling in Powa’s chest, that were, in turn, holding Atson’s breath, as if making him oblivious to the basics of oxygenation.

Dr. Casly began speaking with a serene voice, a blue pen in her right hand.

― What I have to tell you is delicate. As a matter of fact, we are dealing here with an extremely sensitive subject.

She paused before proceeding in order to meticulously select her words.

― I know the entire range of your family medical records, and none of them include information that can help with this diagnosis…

Powa noisily swallowed her saliva, hastily stood up, and behind a hand half covering her mouth, a tremulous voice dared to express itself ― Please, tell us the truth, Casly! We are tired of being in the dark!

― Do you remember the discussion we had last time? ― Dr. Casly enquired as she widened her eyes and invited her to take a seat.

― Yes, absolutely! ― Powa replied, worry creasing her face as she was sitting down.

― At this point in time, I can assure you that something has changed since the last sample. Yet, according to the file I’m holding in my hand, the results are inconclusive. It is a medical case that has no previous record.

Powa was then imploring, her hands up in the air.

― Give me some concrete answers, Casly! How can I live in this world with a mind full of doubts? ― Powa’s brain overpowered, unlimited jumbled answers knocked her in the head. She shivered. A nervous laugh escaped her lips.

Dr. Casly wished she had more data to share with them. ― I think we are crossing a threshold. Right now, I just need another sample to compare against the old results.

Dr. Casly took a deep breath, and confidently said, ― Don’t worry, I will be working with the best doctors in the country, but I’d rather ask you to postpone your plans, at least for now!

Genuinely, Dr. Casly approached Atson, a tap on his left shoulder annoyed his slight inclination to lock himself into his own mind, far away from the rest of the world. He tried to profess some words, but nothing came out of his mouth, except for a rough cough. He cleared his throat, ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to fight something back. Without warning, a vigorous stream of thoughts swallowed him up, heavy concerns crushed him in such a way that craziness overtook his private wild creations. An impenetrable desire grasped him from within, a hop through the entry door would be outstanding, the end of some kind of misfortune towards the realization of a dreamed reality. His left hand in the pocket, Atson was juggling with two seashells.

Dr. Casly looked at the couple, visibly disturbed. Honestly, their friendship created a scenario far more complex than the one she had expected. Intimately, she wished for a magic wand to rescue the couple from an already visible downward spiral.

She smiled kindly, sat in front of them and explained, ― I cannot put a time frame on anything, since we are just scratching the surface of new medical procedures and scientific investigations. I hope we will get to conclusions soon. I will let you know promptly.

An indistinct voice replied, ― Thank you, Casly!

Dr. Casly left the room, nodding her head in approval. Few seconds later, nurse Belisa made her entry, asked them to follow her, took the sample and exited a colorless room.

The couple was left alone in a breathless trap, a nameless void in which they watched their worlds scramble like a fragile castle of cards. Powa had a strange thought, ― My life was not supposed to be like that! ― But no one was listening or perhaps she was wrong!

The blurry room started spinning around, she was going to pass out when Atson caught her on the fall. Immediately, she was assisted with some kind of good medicine and laid in the high-low electric bed for more than half an hour. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw the chart holder next to the glove dispenser, next to the healthcare recliner, lined up straight in front of her. A perfect alignment that kept her body appeased despite the incredulous words still haunting her mind like afflicting ghosts. Then, in a brief moment of lucidity, a subtle thought crossed her head ― Maybe there was more to the equation than that which was shown to her at the time!

Still pale and seemingly lost, Powa said goodbye to Dr. Casly, who promised to get in touch with the couple anytime soon. The slide door of the building welcomed the passage to the chilly wind howling in the dark rainy night.

Key inserted in the ignition, both hands glued to the steering wheel, cutting through the rain, Atson drove back home wordless. In the passenger seat, Powa sat mute as well, eyes flickering in the dark with the strange vision of two shadowy bodies in a fast-moving car in the middle of somewhere. Both were prisoners of a more clarified void, an outrageous reality that slapped a nasty joke on their faces.

That night, the distance between Dr. Casly’s office and their home appeared to be longer than the one they could recall.