should i write more of this?
I remember the last time I stepped outside just to get some air. That moment is clear. I opened the door. The sky was gray. The clouds hung low, heavy in the air like a child on the verge of tears. Cats waiting in front of half-shuttered storefronts seemed to be searching for shelter, as if they sensed danger. I remember thinking, “Is it me who’s suffocating, or the air itself?” but after that, nothing. There’s a cut in my mind, as if my memory has been erased from a certain point onward, or suppressed.