One drop of my soul

Barricaded at home to keep out his memories, Ishgrad lit a cigarette that lasted long, but not long enough. Two, perhaps three spirits were already staring at him with the impudent look of someone who wants to drink and not pay. Evening had fallen.

“Alright, take one drop of my soul.”

During his life, Ishgrad had made several mistakes that were not mistakes at all, and for this reason, he had to pay every evening. He had lived with persistence, following his dreams until his legs and boots had given out. Even then, he had wooed the stars. But not anymore. Ishgrad was old—so old that he wanted to forget his travels and make room in his mind to welcome Death.

Knowing what to do, he took a knife and lightly cut his wrinkled skin, letting as many drops of blood fall into a chalice as the invisible spirits present in the room. In all, he poured three drops: no more, no less, for such was the rule.

When the sun set, spirits came knocking at his doorstep. Some he recognized, while others were ghosts abandoned by all but their pain, trying to break into that macabre party. That night, Ishgrad's house was visited by a friend who had passed away just before winter, a woman he had loved and wished goodbye to at the train station, and, guess what, a stranger.

To his friend, Ishgrad said, “We should have aged while remaining children, but they obliged us to age and become men.”

To his former lover, he said, “I said goodbye for I feared your beauty. And when the train left, I kept waving, still fearful of your eyes and kisses, until you vanished on the horizon.”

When it was the stranger’s turn, Ishgrad stood up and said, “You are late... but I expected nothing less from a respectful lady such as yourself. It’s only appropriate, I think, to offer you a full chalice and make a toast to life.”

The tinkling of glass echoed in the silence and, for a fleeting instant, dispelled his solitude. The fateful meeting had taken place, and it was time for the Moon to complete her circle around the Earth. By the time the Moon vanished from the sky, Ishgrad had reached that place where his steps could never have taken him.

And the Sun, oblivious to it all, dawned once again.

by Jason R. Forbus