6. She is not alone in her watchful solitude. Animals begin to appear on the plains, in the trees, and by the water. She sees an elephant; she wonders whether it would let her ride upon it. She looks down at herself, and wonders if she fits into this world, or whether she is merely an observer, intruding upon something new and mysterious. The newness, however, seems to be fading slightly from this place. It is no less mysterious, but the air has a settled quality about it, and everything around her feels as if it is in its right place, with the right amount of space between spaces. The sun is setting, and as she watches, she feels as if she too is in the right place.
It is strange being up here. Everything that is not this building looks small and very close; with one small leap I could jump to the next building with the ease of a child jumping over cracks in the path. I am shivering. It is later than I thought – the sky has a sombre hue, and instead of winking at me like it used to it seems to be closing sleepy eyes. I contemplate making that leap, and chasing the sun until it wakes up again. If I close my eyes, if I imagine I am a child again and everything is possible, I might be able to do it. Everything would rewind. Instead of living in silence, instead of dreaming crazy dreams while I do ordinary things, I could really join the circus. Once in a while I might think an ordinary thought. But ordinary thoughts would be rare, because my life would be extraordinarily wild and frothy.
I look over the edge of the building. It is a very long way down, and I have photocopying to do. I head back inside, giving the sky one last winking glance. I smile with my red lips.
7. It is a kind of dying; an ending and a beginning. The light fades; everything starts to blur together and erase. It is peaceful. She wonders what lies ahead in this new place. It is impossible to know, but from the wondering comes the dreaming, and in dreaming she is everywhere, in everything.