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August 27, 2007

Page 30

A bra strap, in a print I didn't remember, was just visible through her collar.

She didn't move even slightly in the time it took me to take off my overcoat, undo my black necktie, and remove my wristwatch. Staring at her back called forth memories. They were from before I met her.

"Hey," I started, but it wasn't at all my voice that I heard. It was like a voice from some far-off place, making a special detour. I wasn't surprised by the lack of response.

She looked like she could be sleeping, or like she could be crying, or like she could be dead.

I sat down on the far side of the table and pressed my fingertips to my eyelids. The fresh light of the sun marked off the table. I was in the light; she was in shadow, a shadow without colors. A withered potted geranium sat atop the table. Outside the window, someone was spraying the street with water. There was the sound of an asphalt road being sprayed with water, and there was the smell of an asphalt road being sprayed with water.

"Care for some coffee?"
Nope, no answer.

After confirming the lack of response, I got up, ground coffee beans for two in the kitchen, and switched on my transistor radio.

Posted by tim at 11:42 PM | Comments (0)

August 28, 2007

Page 31

Once I'd ground the coffee beans, I discovered that what I'd really wanted was ice tea. I'm always realizing these things too late.

The transistor radio played harmless pop songs quite appropriate for mornings, one after another. Listening to those songs, I began to feel that the world hadn't changed at all in the last ten years. Only the singers and the names of the songs were different. And I was ten years older.

After ascertaining that the kettle had come to a boil, I turned off the gas. I let the water cool for thirty seconds and poured the water over the coffee grounds. The coffee slowly absorbed all the water it could, and its scent suffused through the room. Outside, an army of cicadas had begun to sing.

"You've been here since last night?" I asked, holding the kettle. Her hair nodded infintesimally on the table. "You've been waiting all night?" She didn't answer.

Between the steam of the kettle and the strong sunlight, the room was getting stuffy. I closed the window over the sink and switched on the air conditioner before lining up a couple of coffee cups on the table.

Posted by tim at 11:55 PM | Comments (0)