The ceiling is a web of stains and the walls are covered with a paper that glistens even in the grayness of the dawn. Sheets pool around them and the windows weep in the damp heat. The bed is scratchy and hard. One hand finds another.
Two words, call and response. A barely lifting intonation, a request to clarify that both felt the same thing at that moment.
An answer that says everything. Their hands squeeze and an impossible parallel takes over, the sort of moment that remembering later would be too painful, the kind of moment that will forever be an indictment of the future.
The apartment seems to jut out over nothing at all, filtered light coming in through the window from nowhere. They both see simultaneously that beyond the walls, that beyond this distilled eternity between two seconds there is nothing at all.
They swing the door open and somehow expect to find a void gaping back at them. The dirty light is here on the stairs as well and the door swings shut behind them.
The street is empty and echoes with their footsteps, making it seem as though they are being followed. A backward glance reveals a shape, something that appears as if a hole had been cut into the fabric of the universe, a thing with no seeming characteristics.
They approach it, and the crystal stillness of their revelation in the room changes simultaneously in both of them, a directionality appearing in its stead, an arrow pointing to the dimming stars. It pulses, and they draw closer, eyes shining with a curiosity. As they draw still closer, their attention is entirely occupied by this being.
The street lay empty until the city came to life again.
Let's stay and pray tonight
To someone who came by our place
And our leader
Can see us cry
released June 8, 2017
music and lyrics by Yevgen Chebotarenko and Max Kovalchuk
mixed by Ilya Galushko
cover art by Yevgen Samborsky, edited by Anna Bekerskaya
text by Anand Dibble
special thanks to Oleksii Golub