Raluca Arnăutu

Toward the horizon, a fixed
point. A triangular outline touches my forehead, another rhomboid touches my
right shoulder, caressing my arm down to my knees. A silvery strand of hair
stands out from the millions of others and touches each of my eyelashes. The
spot expands, forming a red halo around it. At one point, the center of my
pupil merges with the dazzling coloured circle to form a single shape. From my
knee down around my calf, a cold sensation descends gently. At the shin it turns,
changes temperature slightly, pauses for a moment and then continues at the
same speed towards the tip of my thumb, where it breaks into a perfect circle
in the air. The air wrapped me in a cocoon.