9.17.2011

The door (The clockwork boxes 3)



Almost running, I went down the two floors to the underground platform, being careful not to touch the black iron railing that was shining like a snake’s skin. The light was getting dimmer as I was descending more and more and the stairs opened their mouth entrance to their end. On the last stair the daylight had vanished and had been replaced by the yellowish colour of cheap gold. The huge fluorescent bulbs were screeching as if thousands of little insects had been trapped into their lids and now all of them were trying to organise their massive exit to the slow tidal wave of the suffocating atmosphere which was hugging like a lustful lover all the platform. I sighed a little scared but  I was determined  to amuse myself as a traveller of this endless underground tube. Its two sides were gapping open, totally black in front of me, the one on the left, the other one on the right. I started imagining mythical cities full of three headed beasts, hidden under the railtracks, breathing silently and talking in that language of resonances caused by the continuous banging of the metal railines. I had been down in the tube at nights too, waiting for some train and I know what I am saying. It is so freaking scary to know that the trains routes are getting less.,It’s even scarier what I can hear while waiting for them.

I wouldn’t have seen the small dark curving right where the stairs ended, if my leg hadn’t slipped somewhere, making me hold the railing tightly, bending over my whole body in order to keep my balance. And as I was trying not to fall down and be a funny clown for the other commuters, I saw a stack of a mysterious dust. A low black hill formed by the dust of an unknown metal or coal stamped and broken by someone. It was like charcoal chips. It showed incongruously symmetrical and quiet, in relation to all this dirt and rush. I was curious. I always used to be drawn by the most insignificant things for others, actually sometimes,- especially when I was younger-, I used to believe that there were some things that I was the only who could see them and whose existence could be confirmed only by me. These things might have existed only because they happened to have fallen into the fury of my observation. But they were completely invisible for the others or absolutely improbable to be noticed by someone else. The same with that dust now. 

I had bent over it looking closely the blackish mountain. It was left there, formed with geometrical accuracy right on the corner of a staircase, at a place that no leg could have stumbled on it. I rubbed some of the dust among my fingers and then I brought it to my nose. Some people were looking rather surprised at me wondering what on earth I was doing there like a dog on its four legs. It smelt like poppy seed but its  hard, as rock, texture made me sure that it wasn’t something like this. Without thinking I put some of it on the tip of my tongue, turning my back so that no one could see me. And right at the moment I was turning my back, towards the wall, I saw the open door..How strange..I had never seen that door and the strangest of all is that I  used to use the tube daily. I walked past the same spot again and again and I promise, I am a very observant person! A door isn’t something I wouldn’t have seen! And such a small door as if it is made for liliputean workers or passengers at the height of toddlers. I could not understand…I was standing surprised, looking magnetized at the black hole that appeared behind the door opening. And really I don’t know what it was that made me approach. I am not a particularly courageous person, or impatient to meet something seeming so threating by first sight. I could have left and then I would think all day long about this door and it sudden appearance there. I would probably come to the conclusion that it was my fault that I hadn’t seen it before.

I pushed the knuckle and the door creaked like a crying animal..


image: August Sander

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