DIANA IN THE FOG

By María Martínez

— Good morning darling! There is coffee in the coffee maker.

Mario places the pliers he’s carrying in his right hand on the table and takes a sip from the cup under the strainer. The cup hits the marble top.

—You’ve made it wrong, Diana. It came out cold!

The gate slams shut. Diana empties the strainer and fills it with fresh ground coffee, then she makes another hot cup. 

This time Mario returns before the coffee gets cold and he takes the cup Diana has prepared to his desk. Like every morning for a year, he turns the television on. It’s still early and Diana lies down on the couch. The gray echo of the 8:00 a.m. news extinguishes itself between tears and scattered voices that rise to the table.

Diana’s head sinks into the almost flat armrest. Behind the window, the fog turns the amber flowers silver. Diana’s gaze is fixed on the ceiling while her fantasy recreates long walks by the sea.

— I’m going out for a walk, Mario solemnly informs.

—But, you can’t see anything…

—Precisely for that reason. I want to see the fog…          

—Shall I go with you?

— No! You stay here. I’m not going to wait for you to get dressed. Goodbye, I’m leaving. 

Diana closes the book that her academy instructor recommended and sinks a little deeper into the couch. The tedium of the cloudy morning and the chiaroscuro under the skylight have overcome her spirit before getting dressed.

That Patti Smith song she has set as an alarm tone plays: “There’s a town in north Ontario… Blue, blue windows behind the stars…” Diana visualizes herself floating over one of the clouds outside, below there is a beach where the waves break gently on the sand.

The timbre of the melody envelops the entire room: “Yellow moon on the rise, big birds flying across the sky, throwing shadows on our eyes…” The nostalgic and almost mystical guitars feel relaxing: “Leave us helpless, helpless, helpless…”

Diana’s back progressively sinks into the couch, her body is filled with music. Suddenly, Margot’s fists clout violently on the door:

-Diana! Diana! Dianaa! Your alarm has rung twice!

Diana wakes up with a flinch and reaches out to turn off the alarm clock. Then she hears Margot’s footsteps walking down the hallway towards her apartment. She remembers now that Mario went out for a walk a while ago and pictures him wandering among suspended water droplets. Although curfew is far away, the feeling of dread seems to float between the houses all day.

From the depths of her conscience doubts arise about many things. She even doubts reality itself. Could the conversation with Mario have been a dream? Diana goes from the coach to the room and verifies that Mario is not there.

(Original Spanish text «Oniria en la Niebla«: https://elartca.com/2020/04/26/diana-en-la-niebla/ Author’s translation)

_________________________________

Image taken from Freepik, Mujer en la montaña con niebla, Woman on the mountain with fog

---