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התפכחות > Adva Tal-Or Abbott
The city seems to be speechless, for once. The people stand hushed
around her walls, the buses apologize as their engines rumble on the
pavements. And the air stands in attention, for once.
The city seems to be without words, but I don't believe her; she has
fooled us before, the lying bitch. How arrogant you are, how arrogant
are your buildings standing out of the mountains like you own them.
Like you own the sky too. City of mine, you are a liar! I walk your streets
and I want to scream, Stop pretending already! Stop saying you're fine,
I know you're not. But you go on, you look at me, with your glaring
sandstone teeth blinding the idiots that adore you, while you wipe the
blood-spatters off your yellowish cheek. You smile, hide the finger that
committed the treason, and go on with your ramblings like nobody
notices; and they really don't. But I notice, Lying Bitch.
You know what I wish, really wish? I wish I could take you whole and
hurl you into the sea, face first. Then you would sink deep, your torrents
sinking into the sand, your pavements a black ceiling.
Then there will be quiet, and no screaming could change that; the filth
and the people will sink down, the fishes will pick you clean, the salt
will melt the soot, the waves will throw sand upon the stones and they
will shine. And you will shine,
you will be white and darkly, you
will sparkle like the fossil that you
are. You will be beyond lies and
beyond apologies, silent and at
peace.
Death would become you, my
city.

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