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November 21, 2024

A language older than words

Chapter 2

The flames dance, casting flickering shadows across the yard, and there’s something about them that feels unusual. They move with a kind of purpose, as if they’re alive, whispering to each other in a language older than words. I watch the fire carefully, feeling a pull toward it, like it’s trying to share a secret with me. For a second, I think I see a face forming in the flames — serene, with eyes half-closed, gazing somewhere beyond. But when I blink, it’s gone, replaced by nothing but the familiar crackling of seasoned wood.

Later on, we settle into the living room and Paul hands me a cookie, still warm, its edges crisp. I bite off a piece and let it dissolve on my tongue, catching myself in a strange reverie. It’s as if I’m tasting a memory, something I can’t quite place — a feeling of home, of a place that maybe only exists in a dream.

We’re surrounded by Cyrus’s eclectic art collection. Paintings lean against walls, sketches and sculptures are tucked into corners. One particular painting catches my eye. It’s of a landscape, but not any ordinary landscape — more a blend of colors and shapes that seem to shift every time I look at it. There’s a quality about it that feels … alive.

Cyrus notices me staring and shares a story about the piece. A family from Colorado had wanted to buy it, even flew out to see it. They had fallen in love with it, desperate enough to sell a piece they already owned, just to bring it into their lives. But when that deal fell through, they had to let go of Cyrus’s painting. A love that just couldn’t be. There was something poetic about it, something tragic in the painting’s silent existence — always admired, yet never fully able to belong to anyone.

As Cyrus speaks, I feel a strange breeze sweep through the room. It isn’t cold, nor is it warm; it just exists, a presence slowly moving past us. I shiver slightly and look at Cyrus, who catches my gaze with a knowing look.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” he asks, a slight smile playing on his lips. “This house, sometimes it brings out things we try to keep hidden”.

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