The Mercy of Birds

CHAPTER 5: DEAR SISTER

CHAPTER 5:
DEAR SISTER

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Clementine,

Hello. How are you? I hope you are always in prime health. If there ever is any chance, I would very much like to talk to you, but I guess this letter will suffice for now.

I've attached some pictures and a gift that I thought you might like to have.

Sincerely,

Your brother, Cameron.

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Dr. Singh laid out multiple printed photographs on top of the table. There wasn't much gradation of flagrant color on them but they weren't black and white either. They were pictures taken during bleak winter, most probably during this current one.

Clementine's eyes fell on them, tracing every detail she could make out from a point of view of a detached beholder, keeping a physical and emotional distance from the memento that was supposed to mean something to her, but it wasn't intentional. It was just removed from her.

She didn't know what the gray-painted house that appeared as though they were built in the 19th century was meant to signify. Then there was a picture of a frozen, snowed-in hill that overlooked a deciduous forest. Then a black, grand piano standing out in a room of a dark backdrop. Why would he think she would want to have it? What were they for?

"Here, do you want me to read the back of the photos for you?" Dr. Singh offered, but with or without her approval, she did it anyway.

She took the picture of the archaic house and turned it over. "This is my home now. It's about one hour drive from the hospital. It is a three-storeyed house with six bedrooms. Currently, I live alone, but if things turn out as expected, I will have one of my family members moving in with me. They're free to choose whichever bedroom they want to have."

Dr. Singh glanced up at her but there wasn't a slightest hint of emotion, yet she knew that somehow Clementine was listening, so she continued.

"This is what the vicinity of the house looked like. It might appear lonesome and desolate, but don't worry, it is safe. I can put some more illuminations on the path or fairy lights for Christmas or all year long. I remember you used to like them."

"This is my music room. I'm a cellist but I can also play other instruments, such as the violin, piano, some guitar and bass."

"This is my cello. The one that I often used to perform to an audience." Dr. Singh unfolded the unseen picture once she finished reading the brief description and Clementine could see a close-up shot of a brown cello that reflected a beam of light on its body.

"This is me. It's my most recent picture so this is how I look now. The only difference is that I've recently cut my hair short, but I don't look very different than what you can see here. I hope when we meet, Clementine, it doesn't throw you off very much."

Dr. Singh pushed the sheet of the luminous paper onto the table and a photograph of a prepossessing man, taken candidly through a certain angle that highlighted the right side of his face, was showcased in front of her. The light illuminated his features in all the right places, his blond hair luminous like gold, framing his sharp cheekbones to his shoulders. His eyes were open but he was not looking at the camera nor did he seem to be fixating on anything in particular during the time this photo was taken, which was on a stage. His body clung to a cello that he embraced like a fragile lover yet one of his hands clasped a bow across the neck of the instrument as though he was going to slit its throat and let it bled on his lap.