Splitting Image – Last Part: Red

The last parts of my short story, Splitting Image, with pictures from Marco Vinagre. As a recap:

Previously…

Splitting Image – 1

This is an illustrated, speculative and auto-fictional, short story! I hope you’ll like it! All the pictures were taken a year ago by Marco Vinagre in Kings Cross, London but coincidentally, my hair looks nearly the same colour today 🙂 Splitting Image – 1 I put my mask on, crawl carefully through the torn, cobwebbed…

April 26, 2020December 29, 2021

Fashion

Splitting Image – 2: Purple

This is one of the part 2s (!) of my new short story, “Splitting Image”. You can read part 1 here. I hope you’ll like it! Splitting Image – 2: Purple I step in. This is strange. The tunnel is much brighter than it seemed from outside. It looks very sleek, and bends so you…

May 2, 2020December 29, 2021

Fashion

Splitting Image – 2: Black

This is another part 2 (!) of my short story, Splitting Image. Next post will be: the last part 2 and part 3! Read the beginning here: Splitting Image – 2: Black I step in. Oh, why is this tunnel so different than it had looked from outside? So much brighter, I’m not sure if…

May 9, 2020December 29, 2021

And now…

Splitting Image – 2: Red

I step in.

Wow! It looks like I’m wearing a new dress! How magical! This one is so red and long and comfortable!

This tunnel is actually very bright and lovely! I can see all the wonders, like – oh! People! Not sure I expected them here but it’s a great surprise. I come near them, nothing happens. Oh well, I’m sure they would talk to me if they could or wanted to. So I just smile at them. They’re not really here but I can pretend.

I look at the tunnel again. It’s so nice! These lights! These curves! I want to sing and laugh and I feel a story coming in my head, but I forgot the steps to make a story happen. I don’t mind at all.

It would be fun to try to pass through people. I stumble when trying to do this and hurt my ankle. I can vaguely remember, a part of me that would have been more careful or saved me from dangerous situations. But hey, this tunnel is so very new and I’m so happy to be able to explore it, I’m sure I would be fine.

I play with the fabric of my new dress and I just walk around in circles. I feel like laughing, so I laugh. It all feels very instinctive, I just do the first thing that comes to my mind without real second thoughts.

I don’t think I was always like this, I would worry about the past, of all things, or care a lot about my wellbeing or goals. I do feel like I care about this person, this other part of me. I don’t want this person to be hurt if I can avoid it. I chuckle. If we really split into different people, that’s so amazing!

I think the other ones might think they’re the real me, but there is no such thing, is it? A more disciplined part of me might have made sense of this thought but I don’t mind.

I don’t really need to get out of the tunnel, but I don’t have a strong drive to stay, either. I mean, I could just walk anywhere. I don’t know what would happen either way and it’s fine.

I walk because I want to.

I look in front of me, and there’s someone that looks like me. I don’t really mind either reuniting or staying split, but she looks sad and I don’t want her to be sad if I can help.

I get out.

Splitting Image – 3

We are now all in one, and it’s so weird. I remember three different timelines, three different mes, whatever that means. Different parts of me that wanted or needed each other. I marvel at how difficult it can be to feel balance usually, and how great it is at the same time.

I walk away, limping a bit, and get out of the park, the “Dangerous” sign near the entrance now meaning something different to me, even more disturbing than failing structures and falling wheels.I carry on but retrace my steps after a while, even if my ankle is throbbing, and slowly come before the warning sign again. I take my pen out and write: “There is a light at the end of the tunnel”, then walk away again.

The End