Tanjelavi

Trinat

They were now getting up ready to get going in complete silence, with only the talks and shouts of others interrupting it, breaking through like wind through a broken glass... Trinat only wanted to get out of there, disappear, disperse in the endless streets he knew so well it made him vomit—and most of all, regret such a settled way of existence he was always leading, knowing nothing beyond the Capital—but he, a chief police officer, is supposed to know about other cities and towns, right? Even if they had a chief police officers there, too, and a local database, and the same ranks, and the same duties and tasks... The only difference that made him stand out, was the full access to absolutely all the databases of other cities and towns, which even his partner lacked... But he physically couldn't check hundreds upon hundreds cities all by himself, so the others were to write reports only on extreme, out-of-ordinary, occasions... Which always were checked by Goe: he centralized all the system and improved it, for which Trinat received praise... It was still done from his account after all—and besides, Goe insisted on it himself; earlier, Trinat would call it selflessness; now, he would rather call it self-defense

Now, in the streets of the Capital, he stopped following his fellows and was walking aimlessly, with his head feeling empty despite being overfilled with so many thoughts he failed to keep track of them entirely, so it was empty, for him; Goe's vision followed him along, flying or rather gliding on the ground by his left, and then right side, smiling with a teasing, contaminating smile, forcing him to smile, too—but all he wanted was to have it in his arms, hug it so tight as to pop it as a balloon, and put an end to this already: it all was just wrong, besides, he, as a chief police officer, had no time whatsoever for all this craving to be near, near—ugh, it just made him mad, enraged at his own self, shaking his head so hard as if he was making enormous efforts to screw it off his own neck, and wanting to punch himself right into the face, but was too weak to do that, sternly and shakingly threatening himself with a fist instead, staggering from one side of a street to the other, as if he were drunk or something... But of course, no one could get drunk there: he was just looking super suspicious and odd, even if not everyone could recognize him by his status quo face, if only they knew his name—he would just lose his face once again, revealing the not so imaginary blood and passion boiling, melting everything in him, better than any existing alcohol, he was more than sure of that

"How much they would scream!" thought he to himself, his thoughts discontinuous and drawled, and dragged down—"To see what's boiling, burning, and dispersing inside of me—still being inside, being trapped, encaged, imprisoned! A criminality inside of a police officer... Chief officer for chief criminality, huh...? Ha-ha-ha—HAHAHAHA"

His bursting into laughter attracted even more glances of the passers-by, many turning into runners-by after having caught just a slight glimpse of him, but he didn't notice that, reveling in his hardship and lightness at the same time—he was hopeless, so he just laughed, laughed, and laughed, to just laugh it all away... But of course, it didn't get any better, except for he threw off his mask and stepped, stepped, and stepped on it, to just turn it to dust and then just disperse it, just because he couldn't hold all that alcohol in him, burning, hurting him, any longer

When he was worn out, he just threw himself on a nearby bench, wanting so much to take out a cigarette and light a lighter, but of course he couldn't, there wasn't any in here after all... He was now sleepy as hell and was just counting the passers-by who now didn't much care about him, only their shadows seemed to mind his staring at them, trying to catch his feet—it was uncomfortable until it got unbearable for him and he stood up, only to drag his body aimlessly somewhere, somewhere he didn't even know, somewhere where no one would know him, but in a place that was at the same time familiar to him, to just not get lost even more—and at that instant... He knew exactly where he'd be heading to now: curfew was the midnight after all, right...?