Auburn Ivy runs away from her problems even if it means running away from her family, friends and familiar life. Anthony Kroff is a footballer on the rise but is lonely and lost in the new city he finds himself in. Their lives would have never inte...
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0.34 | from Sabah's recorder: when in an alley |
Sadness is not eloquent, despite what the great poets say. It is at best colloquial, often simply silent and usually, broken—like the ugly pieces of some once-pretty plastic container that finally gave way.
Ferrero Rocher boxes.
I suppose, the afterthought of sadness has a philosophical taint to it which is both eloquent and beautiful but there is no beauty in sadness, at least not to the one who breathes it in and stores it up, right there, below the ribs, pushed painfully against the diaphragm.
Cheap cigarette boxes.
In the alley, it is always slightly damp in summer because the cooler upstairs drips incessantly. I had complained so many times about it but when Auburn fell asleep I slipped out. My hands shook as I lighted up a cig. For a moment my face flared up and then I was left alone. I figured if I stood there long enough, I could get it out of my system.
Her face flared up against my closed eyelids. I smiled at the precious memory. She had almond brown hair that matched with her bright eyes. She had my nose. She was a part of me, my best part. I had written her against my backbone through the years and yet only that day did she begin to weigh me down.
She didn't recognize me. I suppose she couldn't. She was so young when David took her away but I had hoped foolishly she would know me somehow, anyhow.
Then, David sucked in a breath, an angry frown ripping apart his forehead. "Let's go. We're done here."
"Julia, it's me, your mother," I finally managed to say. It didn't sound like anything I had ever imagined to say to her. It sounded mundane, as if I was wishing her 'good morning'.
She looked at me with a frown similar to David's and then she drew back, eyes flashing towards her father. I saw realization flit through her being and then I saw disgust. She tossed her head back and said in words that sounded choking and controlled at the same time, "My mother is right here beside me."
The woman who sat with them reached for Julia and pressed her hand comfortingly, looking at me with both alarm and a pity that hurt me.
I had known David had remarried. Of course, I had known.
So there she was.
Pasted perfectly from where I had been torn out and discarded. She fit in so well. I have never wanted to be someone so much in my life.
David stood up and gripping my arm, said in a low voice, "Don't create a scene here." He tried to walk me out and in my haze I allowed myself to be walked. I didn't even hear what he said to the chauffeur but I was being thrown out.
Later, I would remember Auburn pushing away David and the chauffeur, telling them off in quick brutal English while Anthony led the chauffeur away.
"Doyouwanttoleave?"
"Do.you.want.to.leave?"
"Do you want to leave?"
She had probably just whispered it once but I had to strain myself, replay the words again and again to piece them together.
I must have said yes because Anthony was soon driving us home.
There were so many things I wanted to say.
Your brother is so irritating.
But he has some charm, it's obnoxious.
Sorry I spoilt the dinner.
The dessert was good, we could have finished it.
Instead, I got out of the car when we reached home and told them to go away. I remember shouting.
