BLACK CYCLE

Black Cycle. One curvilinear plot. Tired of looking for her at different points in time, Jules stops the machine at the point of origin – when they met, to miss her. He rides his bicycle late at night drawing circles on the wet grass. To let go of the identity that came with her, he needs rounds and rounds of mud and petrichor. At times, a necessity of the sensitive heart, at others, the perfect time machine – the cyclical journey of nostalgia blurs the notion behind tenses. No present, no longer past, Jules is on one continuous line of intense attachment. The worst-case scenario is a parasite that whispers, waiting for Jules to rehearse the reaction when the day comes she's moved on with someone else. An end can be rationalized, a goodbye cannot.