“Get some rest,” the doctor suggested, upon glancing at my chart for a millisecond. “The fever will break soon.”
It sounded dismissive and rehearsed.
I fought the urge to launch into a diatribe about attention to detail. Realistically, it didn’t matter anymore: he was unaware he’d been treating Patient Zero.
Eldar recently finished reading a novel about a devastating pandemic. Go figure.
Despite his disintegrating mind, Frank knew the doctors were peddling a form of quicksand.
Earlier, he found a hidden note from his dear uncle; hastily scribbled whilst succumbing to similar sedation.
Frankie – you’ll see when they’re through,
They’ll make a monkey out of you.
He smiled wryly for the psychiatrist.
Eldar cannot recall where or why he wrote this short story.
Although his disheveled appearance causes many to avert their gaze, the slightest inkling of a past life emanates, weakly, for those that dare to look.
Sitting on the concrete ground, with back against the wall and hat in hand, his cardboard sign simply reads: WE FALL, KINGS AND COMMON ALIKE.
Eldar is in awe of how incredibly thin the line really is.
“I can’t make the pieces fit,” little Samantha said to her mother as they worked on the puzzle laid out on the table.
At that moment, her father entered the room: eyes tired and shoulders slumped, worn like the pages of an old book.
“I know, honey. Neither can I.”
Eldar Levin can currently be found taking residence in California.
His hands are trembling. His vision is blurred.
He’s been quicker than many less fortunate souls, but hasn’t been in practice for years now.
He wonders if age will be his demise. Or rust. Or comfort.
After ten paces, he turns and finds too many faces staring back at him.
Eldar calls California home, where he can watch the sun hide behind the ocean.
He squinted at first, but then shielded his eyes when the light proved too overpowering.
“Why me?” he bellowed in the direction of the source. “Surely there are better specimens for you to abduct.”
Move your hand, came the reply, unspoken and foreign, yet understood. We can’t see your face.
Eldar is currently wondering (1) what achievements are considered noteworthy enough to include in a bio, and (2) whether perhaps a blurb highlighting failures is more telling and useful. He figures that some governing body has already addressed and decided on this issue.