Time is just a disease ...

A mountain full of putrid, stinky corpses, their hair covered in ash but their veins completely bloodless. We are alone. All so terribly alone. They tower up in the middle of the city; the eye is not allowed to escape, not a breath goes by without feeling its smell, letting it revive in every groove of the tongue. And over and over again the same wording: We are alone, so terribly alone.
For a brief moment I let myself be carried away by the stench of corpses, step over some defenseless bodies. Gasping and panting, some collapse and succumb to the virus.

We are alone. So terribly alone.
I hear them sing, all to the beat. They sing for their neighbors, they sing for their friends, but they all remain pale, frozen and strangely beautiful. Their heads cover each other, nothing remains but matter. Also from my little sister ...
My veins pulsate, bumps form on the skin, rush up to my neck. Soon I'll be with you and sing with you again.

It's a mass funeral, I tell you. But the deceased is also present at the ceremony. The cold has not even reached most of it, some red shimmer still adorns the cheeks from the last hustle and bustle. In quick succession they all meet up, the whole village. There is no escape because we are alone. So terribly alone.

No more people, nothing more human. All are equal before death, my love. And so I stroll with you over the corpses, climb the mountain so that we may lie on top and united in the last breath.

We were told that diseases regulate the population. They clear the way for future generations, for our children. But my son is lying here next to me, my last look is at his present, the white stuffed bear. The laboriously sewn hairs caress the upper arm in a gentle movement, not wanting to allow the warmth to leave the dead child. And yet it is alone, so terribly alone.

A careless touch, hardly wanted and we are still alone. His strength disappears from the tense muscles, I can feel it. And yet the last movement shows peace, lips pressed, cheeks relaxed. Now I can also leave this place and give my eyes a little rest before it will redeem me. He will come by human hand and show me mercy. I quietly feel the poisoned blood reach my heart. It is finished.

A scream.
Our eyelids opened, climbing the slope between the iris and the eyebrow for the last time. The bright rays blinded us, flooded into the crowd and lingered over our heads like the saving turn. It was the necessary end to our ceremony, the miracle we had hoped for.
Fatigue was written on our faces, tugging at our muscles and yet ... this moment made us happy.
The whining child was carried through the crowd, hand to hand, over the corpses until it touched everyone.Gabrielle ... you are finally here.

"Come on, Mon Amour ... we're late."

A man in a long, white coat grabs his wife's bulging suitcase. He is skinny, but he seems to use the desired strength. His pocket watch is ticking slowly as he takes it out. It's almost 12.

"Come on now, Amour. The train is about to leave."

She comes. The disgusting smell of gasoline engulfs her and she holds her breath. She can escape the stench for eight seconds before it rises up her nasal cavities and for a few moments shows her goal.

"You promised me, didn't you?"

He turns around. There is excessive severity in his eyes. His face is wrinkled, it didn’t survive the sleepless night unscathed. But actually she likes it so, so overworked.

Without further words, her husband walks on towards the red vehicle. At least he knows what time it is.

Once there, everything goes very quickly. Charlie sees the two of them get in, but the man comes back unexpectedly, looking frustrated. He seems to have forgotten something, runs along the platform until he meets a little boy. They talk.

"The future lies back there. I promise you that."

"Am I going to be a doctor there too?"

The older one now looks irritated, believing that he has misheard.

"Why do you want to be that?"

"I don't know, my father told me about it."

A sigh escapes him before he fixates the boy again. His muscles relax, he even dares to have a cigarette. But he doesn’t let his counterpart out of sight, silently moves the fire to the dry tobacco.

"There are a lot of doctors there ... real doctors who won't harm you or leave you alone. Never."

"Is my father there?"

"No, but soon it will be. Then you can say hello to him."

The boy escapes the conversation with a shy smile. His gaze brushes the car 24 and he gets in, without fear, to his brothers.

The man in the long, white coat drops his head a little, spits out the remaining cigarette butt and kicks him with the bare sole. Then he notices Charlie.

The lower part of his face is drawn upwards, the tips of his lips climb the narrow cheeks and he smiles with relish, as if he has now been through an unbelievable agony.

He gets in, takes two short steps to bridge the gap between the track and the wagon. Many have done the same now, but Charlie didn't pay attention to everyone. Now she is alone, all alone.
"When do you finally plan to get in? I'm not waiting for everyone."

A colorless mask adorns his face, circles his contour and clothes his existence. Two cracks allow his eyes to discover the shy girl in front of him, but they hardly give an idea of ​​his features. The white wood pulls itself into an eternal laugh, makes the entire body appear even more unreal, not to mention its narrowness."I'll talk to you. Please listen to me. You will get on this train right now. I will not tolerate any contradiction."

The conductor is now standing in front of her. The subtle breeze is barely noticeable, but Charlie knows it well: the smell of freshly brewed coffee beans, soft but persistent.

"Do I have to call you in first?"

Slowly, almost tenderly, her fingers wrap his hand, first touching the peaks and then penetrating further inside. Many curves extend on the warm surface, abysses that she is now exploring. It presses his skin here and there, shapes it, and then returns it to its original position.

He stays silent, lets her do it.

Resolutely, she completely encloses her discovery, as if she were no longer giving up her rightful property.

Their lips approach and ...