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[Some thought that never made it into stories…]

She sat quietly leaning against the fence, under the spreading chestnut tree. Her damp hair was lifeless in the cool breeze. Her pale sensitive skin was nearly translucent. Above her head, dark leaves were rustling aimlessly following her thoughts as she was staring into the abyss. The pavement glistened with painful streaks of light. In the shade – a splash of water, cold rain water, was surrounding her feet.

She sat there quietly hoping no one will notice. She had been there for a while and intended to stay more. If any passersby had any time to look at her, they would notice how preoccupied she was. Thoughts were moving through honey, emerging as… sand wishes! The distant sparkle of a different place. The memory of a home. The sway of the sea. Falling in love, even with an idea, is still falling in love.

She sat there covering her knees bearing the marks of another world.

A random train from London to nowhere, on a Friday night…

So then she entered, cheerful and friendly. Tall, slender, wearing her very short black dress and a raincoat, she had the typical looks. Sharp lines framed her face. The corners of her lips pointed sightly downwards when she wasn’t smiling. Her perfect chestnut hair and dark sleepy eyes could not hid it. She was in her thirties – still got the looks, but also the age to party. It was all about that this Friday evening. It had always been like that, she had always been beautiful and ready for fun.

She sat on the opposite side, with her body turned towards the joyful group, and her legs resting gracefully across the aisle. She tried to doze  for a while, leaning her head against the back rest, but she kept dropping her phone, and had to pick it up by herself every single time.

Her chubby friend was a bit more talkative, constantly inquiring and assessing.

– So what do you do for a living?

– I’m working with children.

– Really? How come?

– Yeah, 13-14-year-olds. I have to make sure they don’t get into trouble.

– So what do you do?

– I scare them. You know… ‘you shouldn’t do that, I’m telling that to the police’…stuff like that!

– What’s the point?

– We try to find them before the police does. Before it gets really bad.

– And it works?

– Sometimes…

– No way, so you really go to them and say all that stuff?

– Yup…

It sounded better than a cashier at the supermarket. There, the only teenage kid you can scare is that schoolboy peeking at the Playboy cover.

After a while, the man sitting next to her apologised and got up. His voice sounded soft and troubled. As his footsteps vanished onto the dark corridor, she was completely unaware that the only person who truly cared about her that evening, and thought she was the most amazing woman on earth, that single person was walking quietly out of her life.

The next stop was hers. The chatty guy stood up quickly and approached the door, keeping an eye on his little prey. He winked possessively and waited for her to follow.

BookFrenzy

Details

O pata gri intr-un ocean de culoare.

Iunie 2017
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