I stood behind the glass and watched someone sleeping under a big oak tree on the left.
I moved closer and watched a couple fiercely arguing and air-gesturing in the far corner.
I took another step and stuck my nose on the glass and watched an old man clutching his chest and collapsing, on the right side.
I moved around and watched a kiddo finger-painting the sun and the moon on a piece of paper.
I walked some more and watched a woman strangling her mother to death.
I moved my eyes to the left and watched a sea full of hearts and brains.
I tilted my head just a bit and watched some melancholic comets falling from the sky.
I touched the cold glass surface with my fingers and watched you.
Doing the same from the other side.
Our fingertips would have touched if it weren’t for the fucking glass between us.
I moved away the minute I heard visiting hours came to an end.
The guard was shouting.
The aquarium had just closed.
Paraskevi Chourdaki is from Crete, lives in Berlin and has studied English Language, Journalism and Experimental Literature. She’s a Creative Writing professor, an editor in the Journal of Literary Education and a published author. She loves sketching and photography and she’s interested in anything creative.
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