A protagonist, Briefly
I never enjoyed going to the market—loud and suffocating. While standing in the middle of a huge market, filled with people and dirt. I was guarding the groceries, and my gaze shifted around the crowd. Rushing, laughing—as if everyone was the protagonist here. The faces were worried and confident in their purpose. I scanned the faces; everyone’s face was unknown. Fidgeting with the buttons of my cardigan with cold fingers, my eyes welled up. I suddenly remembered my mother’s face and why that was so familiar. Or did I just trick my brain into saying it was familiar? How odd! My ears were bleeding from the murmurings and the horn sounds.
Suddenly, as if a piece of steel had fallen just right beside my ears—a wrenching sound echoed as it touched the floor. Oh, here came the other one, the new character of the film—Tinnitus. It screamed; I sighed out loud. And—oh, the sun! It looked like a round window glowing high above. Inside, someone seemed to be looking, their lights on. Suddenly, I felt as if I were standing in the middle of a courtroom while a thousand invisible judges were dissecting me—intensely! In the background, Vivaldi was playing Winter, violently—vigorously acknowledging my misery.
My heart felt peaceful again when I saw a familiar face—mother! I ran towards her with the bags. The sounds, the faces vanished again—the storm had ended. I was laughing, rushing. After all, I was also the protagonist.