It is big and white, sometimes it is red, sometimes it is dark, and some other times, a mobile window opens to show an ever brighting Sun. And there we rest, unseen, not hidden, nor invisible, just unseen.

And the structure is not that important, but it is beautiful. Like in a dream it lacks shape, but you can always return to the same corner. Sometimes it is made of stone, others of ebory, others it is just made of ideas. But something is constant about this place... actually two things. The pond in the middle, which sometimes is like a very old public shower, sometimes it is an ordinary giant bathtub, and some others it is the skrinked oceans. And the other constant thing about this place... is him.

We stand, looking at a mirror wall, not looking the bodies, or poses, or flesh or bone. He's not looking at me, and I'm not looking at him. We just stare at them, we stare at us as in a whole. Singular plurals. And after being one in the reflection, he turns his head, out and inside the mirror; and so do I. We share dense gazes, and it is then that I become his puppet, my every string is in his hands, and in return I get his. He becomes mine. 

And I don't need to speak, he knows it all. He doesn't need to speak, I know it too.

Then he waits until we are both thinking the same, and then we walk to the pond. Once there I turn myself the other way, and so does he. Then he grabs me, not in a hug sort of way, or by the arms. He grabs the whole me, or sometimes just my soul, when I'm too tired. And I grab him back, and for a second it is sad, then it is tranquil, then it is nothing. 

And for the final act, at the same time, we both let go of the ground and give ourselves to the water. We fall in our backs, while I hold him, and he holds me; but it doesn't matter how hard we ever do it, we end up falling, together. Then we drown, and hit bottom... together. And it is then when it becomes the safest place in the universe. I no longer hold a life, there is no dead, there is just me, and him, which is the same at that moment. It is that moment that all the noise becomes silence, all the wrongs are righted and the void is filled. It is then that I find the meaning.

Then we must emerge, come back one more time, not knowing if we the next time we will.

[What is your happy place?]

by I'm the penguin