Mui Ne, Vietnam, 2010 (Agfa 400)
I dreamt that the world was ending.
We had seen the ball of fire coming, she and I. We looked into each other’s eyes on the train, waiting to be engulfed into oblivion, but it didn’t happen. We walked through the train and told everyone the end of the world was coming. In two days’ time the streets were deserted, houses shuttered. In the morning, there was a bang on our front door and father told me not to open the doors to anyone. I looked out of the window and saw tourists looking lost and bewildered at the emptiness of the roads. The sky hung heavy with grey haze, and we could almost see the growing light of the fire coming towards us. I no longer knew which house we were staying in and what kind of house it was. Soon it wouldn’t matter, the matted fences, weary couches, freshly painted walls.
There came a point when the desire to see you, the hunger to hug you, the intensity of missing you was so strong I couldn’t bear it. It burst through the walls I had built over the years around my heart and swallowed my senses. I become paralysed.
You were busy somewhere, and I sent you a message: do you think you have time today?
Did you reply in time for the fire to engulf us into wakefulness?