Chereads / The diary of a girl's fantastic heart / Chapter 62 - Part 16: The throat of the wind

Chapter 62 - Part 16: The throat of the wind

The presence of ice is no coincidence. I saw this coming. The wind wants the skin of the Light of the present to burn as fast as possible. It needs to come to have power over the bones of our protagonist girl, Luz.

Why do I know anything about the wind's plans?

Because I had to share my vision of the world with that of Luz's mind. I'm going to have to let out certain secrets that are going to cost me when I want to go to heaven.

The self-embracing dot that appeared in the previous chapter crossed the threshold of Luz's mind to flee from my left eye. I brought it too close on purpose.

Why do you think I could never touch the dots without the flames?

The only thing that connects us is the wind. That's why I was able to blow once to make some dots rise and give me control of the flames.

Cats and humans need air to breathe. Also remember that of the domesticated animals, the only ones who are able to go many places like the wind, are us cats.

There are certain privileges we have with the wind and, in general, with everything that can breathe.

I don't know if that has anything to do with the self-hugging points being overwhelmed by any other kind of contact with cats. I would guess that they keep that difference that makes us unquestionably differ from humans.

The sense of vision is of special care, for even though, according to yours, I see walls of a different hue than they really are, I still see a wall just as you do.

The meaning is the same. It is in the signifier that our views diverge.

As for our other senses, you know they are much more developed than yours, if I may presume not to cry.

My left eye sees through one of the gray ices to the wind having its way with Luz's skin.

I have no idea how it will create the flag if it leaves Luz's skin ashes.

Anyway, it is clear to me that this gray ice is the skeleton of the flames burning on her skin. Otherwise I don't understand why the flames leave ice instead of ashes.

The ice outside could not have crossed the threshold of Luz's mind. The only thing from the outside that crosses it, keeping the same form, are the words.

It is also possible that something in Luz's mind is directed to the outside; but it would be with another form or disintegrated in pieces that mold a silhouette similar to the one that "that something" possessed when it was in the abstract world of this girl.

Precisely, the latter is what I intend. I want something inside her mind to go outside. Now that all the self-embracing dots have slipped into the sky, following the example of the dot I scared away, the time is ripe.

Whenever the self-hugging dots attach to the sky they connect to the electromagnetic waves that allow the internet to exist. Without which the writer would not be able to connect your logic and sense of sight to the facts of this story.

As long as you are still here the power of the self-hugging dots will not wane. After all, these points can only be possessed by an avid reader.

These electromagnetic waves are the only ones that can make "that something" that will go outside not have that metamorphosis. The same that implies imbalances in its health in the present.

Her skin is shredding and her figure is down to the bone, and it is not literal.

Can you be healthy or unhealthy without a body?

It shouldn't, but now that this is a fact it was very necessary for the self-hugging points to be in the sky. The higher up these points are, the more they will pick up the electromagnetic rays that connect us.

Whether or not these rays allow the story to go up, they are more than just invisible rays; or at least, in the case of this story, they hide a secret that involves them with the wind.

I cannot reveal it, but Luz can.

And if I am bringing it forward it is because I need to prepare her mind from the inside. Alexis is already doing it from the outside.

Between his words and mine we are going to shatter a piece of one of the gray ices, through which I see on Alexis' neck my red flames like a scarf.

A scarf that has to cover Luz's neck, only this way she will be able to transmit the warmth to her soul.

THE LAW IS DONE

THE TRAP IS SET

And it is that, although I should reveal the secret so that Luz wakes up, because curiosity unites me with Luz and to a certain extent with Alexis, by doing so I could break the souls of the three of them.

I have no idea where I would go if I die as an abstract being. I have to get my body back if I don't want to find out.

There is strength in numbers, but the pursuit of that strength is the motivation for wanting that union to exist. If I speak, one or both of us will lose much of our inner strength.

I must reinforce this union so that Alexis can kiss the interior of Luz. The only thing that works, to release a secret into the air, is the only thing that can annihilate them at the same time.

That vision of the world that I share is seeded by that point in the title of the chapter. It had to be short for this point to rise to an average speed. Believe me, too many words can make the connection heavy.

"Your words are the only human invention that can reach my soul."

Secrets that reach the soul are dangerous, but secrets that reach the edges of the ego...typical of the survival instinct.

THE SURVIVAL INSTINCT

WHAT UNITES ANIMALS WITH HUMANS

My words had to flow as Alexis' soul does because they have the form of a wave and the content of a dead man (the dead cells of which his soul is made). To flow so that the dead cells think that Luz's soul is also like a wave.

These cells can only detect movement. For them the content of all living beings is the same and maybe they are right. There must be some content that all living beings must have in common.

Otherwise, how could there be, for example, the food chain?

WITHOUT CONNECTION

NOTHING EXISTS

For cells it has been like finding another wave with which to congeal in a helical motion. From this a kind of braid is formed by a wave made of dead cells and a soul made of words; or rather, a soul dominated by words.

It could be said that the soul of Luz is a kind of astral calligram, to call it in some way. Perhaps that is why there is more narration than dialogue in this story.

In the dialogue, the quotation marks serve the function of separating the words from the rest of the other words that make up the soul. They share Luz's words with the wind, but Luz's ego needs all the words for her and Alexis needs all her words for him.

Because of this braiding between the inside of Alexis and Luz (thanks to the fluid path of my words); the dead cells can now jump into Luz's neck.

The flames that burn Luz's skin have been drawn to the outside. They want to go to the outside to be seeded in the spaces that exist in the braid.

The words can pose the dilemma to you in the most seductive way possible; however, whether you want to reach the sky, stay where you are or whether you prefer to sink... that is up to you to decide for yourself.

The flames in group cross the threshold of Luz's mind and fill the spaces between her inner self and his inner self.

From the interior of Alexis, it is clear to me that either the way of preserving her soul is too similar to Luz's for my flames to have been teleported before the helical movement or; it is so different that curiosity was a determining factor for the wind to make the experiment to see what would happen if I leave a human mind without passing the threshold.

I doubt it is that because if it were so, Luz would have already woken up.

Eye that, everything I do not describe too well is because the names have power. The name Luz could explain why this girl is so impatient that she makes mistake after mistake and the worst: To base herself on an impossible dream to explain a reality... a secret that could attack her and undo her soul irreparably.

Disaster could happen so fast...

Electromagnetic waves have the speed of light when they travel through a vacuum. And these waves are what connect us.

Is it a coincidence that the helical motion leaves empty spaces as well?

"I promise this is the first and last time I will do it. The last time I will give in to karma. To that motion that repeats itself coldly every time you sleep to dream crying. To dream impossible dreams that mark us as a sequence of vicious circles... through a passion."

How many times has Alexis seen Luz sleep?

Something tells me it hasn't been just the times Luz and her mother visited his and her mother's house.

No Lucifer, don't tell me I have an Edward around here... the dead cells... no, not by my little claws.

And speaking of cells, many of them adhered to the flames that crossed the threshold of Luz's mind. They have clumped together in the middle of that sort of red shawl to exert such pressure on the neck of both that it suffocates the living cells for a few microseconds.

Naturally, the living cells try to flee towards the mouth of passion in a human body: The lips.

The living cells are the ones that make it possible for this world to exist inside Luz's head. If out of nowhere many go to another area, the world of Light will also move. As is happening now.

It is in these instants, when the passionate force mimics the vital force of the soul, that the survival instinct comes into heat. Because, in these moments, is when the animal instinct can and wants to breathe with desire.

A part of the ice cracks enough so that, just by being brushed by my nose, the air given off by my exhalation generates a small hole through which I bring my nose to the outside.

The air of my exhalation confluences with the wind charged with a cold warmth: "A cold determination for a warm intention. Sometimes you are one and I am the other. Then you are the other and I am one...in the end we end up as two in a circuit of karma."

With that thought he kissed her neck, in the same place where my nose is, which in the eyes of a mortal is a mole of flesh. This itself is the basis of the dream of dead cells. They are already in the dream where they have for oxygen, the air that I have just exhaled.

Alexis knows that my air has entered through his lips and he is also aware that, especially for him, it is a dangerous delight. He could wish for some impossible dream so much that not even the sky would be the limit.

The air I exhaled has reached the speed of light to break the ice of Luz's body.

The air I have transmitted began in the form of my two nostrils. These are seen and fulfill the function of a pair of seeds: to create.

To create the impossible dream with the cracks on the icy surface of the body of the girl who always gave her an illusion.

"The only one who arrived when someone could still arrive."

A couple of tears fell down Alexis' cheeks straight to the corner of Luz's eyes. From there, over the corner of each eye, luminous dots appeared, running with their silvery light through all the crevices of the icy surface.

Alexis' soul (the one trapped inside his head) now transmits with a little interference the melodies emitted by Luz's heartbeat.

Alexis hears brittle, choppy tones and harmonies inside his head.

There was not the slightest doubt left that her heartbeat was frozen by the magical cold. Nevertheless, the tears attract the flames that make up the red shawl that binds their necks.

In a matter of seconds, the scarf blurs in the air until it disappears from any mortal eye. The fire of a mind and the water of tears can never be indifferent to each other.

Fire and water meet. The luminous water shows the ice the freedom to let go and the fire runs along the edge of its crevices without any apparent pretension.

At the second, the silver light turns golden; when fire and water join to start with a first ring a whole spring-like chain.

THE THROAT OF THE WIND

The tone of the spring is between yellow and orange. I can say that there is no more of any tone. However, the cracks do not last in the air as scars do not last too long being locked inside the mind.

Ice makes a good canvas for the throat of the wind. The spring is already frozen enough for the same lips that summoned the throat to return it to its usual state of being invisible to any mortal eye.

I would assert that the wind is, perhaps, too susceptible to all traces of mortality.

The ice that covers the spring waits for Light's heartbeat to explode, literally, in pleasure or in pain.... better for both.

With the appearance of the wind's throat, Alexis' soul drops over the neurons in her brain. It's just that the neurons and the wind have a kind of conflict that is of no consequence so far.

The point is that neurons react to the wind in a submissive position, so to speak. Although, if I were the wind, I would always be watching my back.

The neurons gather so much inside Alexis' head that, to her soul, those edges of the circumvallations (brains) are but the shadow of Light's heartbeat.

In part this conclusion is true. He is very much influenced by the magical explanations of Luz. In any case, the brains keep the shadow of the content of the beats of Light.

Form is something impossible within the mind. You know, not in a three-dimensional format. The mind only projects in a two-dimensional form.

It is the typical human illusion of wanting to touch that which is intangible and marvelous at the same time.

It is evident that having your fingers on Luz's nipples, stimulates this desire that the truth had the three dimensions of passion: a narrow space for silence (Luz spreads her curiosity for life and the world), the long road of opportunities to find reasons not to wear out one's own humanity (when they were children playing was the solution) and to create a wall of ego with enough height so that nothing harmful would happen again.

"... I just need more magical explanations."

Her lips caress the corner of his lips again and again. As she listens to the cracks moan in restless, eager melodies for more...more of whatever, but more.

It seems that without knowing it, her lips are searching for something more. Something more unrealistically real, something this narrative cannot describe, something that cannot be anticipated; something that does not have to be beautiful or toxic to stir tides.

What Alexis doesn't know is that the only shapes that guide his steps are those of my nostrils. That fresh shot of curiosity leads him to his little pandora's box: Luz's mind.

The shadows of my nostrils are like a pair of dots that play the role of my spies inside Alexis' mind.

This makes me wonder: How could the 17-year-old Alexis keep me from reading his mind?

Like any spy entering a new place, he must mark the starting point of his investigation. Especially when the mind of the one being spied on encloses his own soul.

Alexis' soul surrenders to the shadow that believes it belongs to the form of Luz's soul.

Although, it is well known that the soul and the heart are not of the same nature, in Luz's case, perhaps that is what Alexis admires most, her heartbeat still makes up most of her soul. More than the words, she listens to the sound with which they are whispered.

The way her heartbeats flow, is the same way he wants her truths to revive him.

His soul has already leapt over the circumambulations and they move as a magic cube would.

My "spy points" knew that his mind was going to take on the role of a labyrinth. Therefore, since I own that impossible dream they share, my pair of spy dots invited the wind outside (the one coming through Alexis' nose) to be projected onto them and, in this way, be able to be a participant in the impossible dream.

And, be careful here, the wind wants to be a main character. Its time has come. He loves impossible dreams. However, as he is invisible, he cannot be the main character in any story.

Maybe that's why this story is more prose than dialogue. Now I can understand the reason why in this story the most important thing is the feelings and the interior of the soul.

An argument conducive for the wind to join with the air that breathes to oxygenate the impossible dream.

The wind takes one of my seeds as a bed and in the other is my fresh air. Both are prolonged until they mingle in circles. They form a spring that runs from your head to your lips anxious and thirsty to stop dreaming of magic.

They both search for something more in the descent.

Could it be the same thing that gravity seeks?

Everything that rises without wings always falls. Just like the water that is thrown against the fire. Just as the throat of the wind breaks with the kiss Alexis gives Luz on her forehead.

That space where his lips take a short distance from her forehead. Just to control the accumulation of disordered thoughts and feelings that hold them.

On that small space, the first circle of The Throat of the Wind adheres to the spring that was created in Alexis' mind. In the act, The Broken Throat ends up entering the dream.

That small space was like an entrance arch for La garganta del viento to a world full of wonders.

Simultaneously, Luz's heartbeat produces a harmony that escapes from her lips like a seductive and impossibly inexhaustible whisper.

A pair of Alexis' fingers manage to move over the nipple. At the same time, Luz opens her eyes and their gazes meet like thunder and lightning. White sparks fly over her body until they disappear, leaving her wet from head to toe.

However, this was irrelevant compared to the area where Alexis' fingers lay. He moves his fingers as if they were numb (Luz's consciousness knows nothing of what has happened) and begs for forgiveness with his eyes.

Little by little he recovers the mobility of his body, but he is not or was not the only one (sometimes I forget that this is past or is it the wind?).

The shoulders of Luz's mother began to move like a snake trying to jump. As if the snake was trying to transform and mutate into some jumping animal.

Luz and Alexis felt the agitation and the rumbling inside their chests. Both formed an assonant, arrhythmic and roaring melody. It was like a crackling of musical pieces far from each other; but trying to emit some sound that some of the pieces could recognize.

And someone already recognized the act in which Luz and Alexis found themselves.

Marisa opens her eyes wide when she sees Alexis' fingers on Luz's breasts. An expression of horror would be too little to say.

She snapped out of her astonishment when she saw that her friend was shaking her head. She walks over and instantly dusts Luz's mother with a golden powder on her head.

Then she places a yellow glove on her left hand and pulls Alexis back. Then... then I'll have to find out too.