<VHMAIL005> THE MAN, AUSTEN BOYD

FRIDAY, 31st of DECEMBER, 1999

He does sometimes come and call me, taps me in my solemn sleep, waking up as he poses as a character, a doll perhaps because I guess that's what he is - porcelain skin, totally a not meek person, and he knows what I do in the back of the night, and somehow a personality. He escorts me out of the bath, carefully giving me a whole space. Sometimes, when we slip in the night, I bet he just gets a hang of me to the point I feel that I visibly knackered him, but when I look at him, he was happy. It feels like a space where someone tolerates the idea of me, in a way. It was comforting.

I dressed up for sleep, and as I sat down on the couch, he was like a little cat on his little paws, always on a run, had comfortably rested his head onto my lap. I looked down at him, in awe as always, and touched his cheek, like smooth silk. I always keep on telling him maybe if we both grow old, maybe he'll be the first dancer out of the room, with his pale lips, outgrown hairs, and thick touch on his palms. He never groans with those little age jokes, and it's kind of tiring, but he never feels like it. There's always a surprise in his eyes, like a glimmer in the dark. I thought of him as an entity rather than a person with these little joys he comes back with.

There's a ticking bomb in the back of my head, as there's always is. Time was always in its hand and never fails to have an audience. Confusingly, there's neither any time here nor any absolutes in this space with that matter. I should've known. I can feel him breathing differently this time. So was I. It's like a change in the wind, but I was the one who made this. I was at fault, but I didn't know that.

"I think I might lose you," I whispered in his head.

The heat in his skin was mighty, and the only engine keeping me at my best, I guess.

"What are you saying? I always come back, remember?" he chuckled, but there's a barren land waiting to slip in between us, now forming its walls.

"Where can I see you again? Can I ask where you live?"

He answered, and I think I always knew the answer, but every time this conundrum continues it feels like I haven't known this for a long time, but I do. I might've answered it for him if I have got the chance.

I woke up.

I think I lost him, easily.

I was afraid that it would happen, but it happens every time.

Come back and tap me again in the middle of the night so I'll know it's you. You always call your name by my ears.

Let me know if you're still out there, a charm of a man. You told me your name was Austen Boyd, 3:27 in the morning.