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Weather deck report

  • 08-01-2007 9:06pm
    #1
    Closed Accounts Posts: 408 ✭✭


    A cancellation by text message had her pulling a plastic chair into the bedroom. The seratonin count was low that day, of that she was fully aware. It did not make a damn of a difference to the proceedings though. The thought of meeting up and getting out had been a buoy that had kept her afloat; now it had sunk at the last minute. I knelt in front of her as she sat clutching a mass card. It was a laminated life jacket of sorts, with a picture of an indestructible woman on it. She would not look at me through her sobs and I could only watch her pajama top become damp with salt and disappointment.

    Next she dragged the chair into the bathroom and lifted it into the tub, but it did not sit steadily or safely in there. Regardless, she stood atop it briefly and vigorously cleaned some spots on the ceiling. I could only stand behind her as she wavered, her toes curled around the edges of pristine oblivion.

    There was a film about fate on TV that night that might have made up for it, but it was on too late and besides she had to get up early to catch the bus. I sat on the small blue sofa with her and we filled eight garbage bags with memories. Six years and two cardboard boxes distilled down to one shoebox.

    She lugged them two at a time down to the carpark basement, and a man offered to help throw them into the bins even though I told him they were heavier than regular rubbish. I could tell chivalry would overcome common sense in his case, but he only grimaced slightly when he hefted them into his arms. I sighed. So many bookmarks of the past.

    The sparseness of the apartment was satisfying on several levels. She plugged the mini Christmas tree in and arranged the ornaments so they were at least somewhat apart. There was no fibreoptic star. I draped some gold tinsel over the mirror atop an assortment of cards that proved she was perhaps more popular away than at home. I also read the birthday cards she arranged on top of the cabinet in some desperate attempt at parental validation. I knew the one that meant the most to her did not exist.


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