Ria closed her eyes, feeling the breeze. Squeezing her eye lids tightly, she wondered - if closing them so tight would erase the things she saw, things she said, things she should have never seen or said. Would the breeze take them with it? Would it erase everything, take every thing back to the beginning...The beginning when they stood seeing each other. To the time when words said had no history to bank on, when the way their eyes, mouth, and gestures looked were just the way they were. Nothing meant, seemed or assumed. That time, when every cell of theirs was new to the other and so, observed, cause that was the only thing they could do. No record of what the cell was in its original form or shape or voice or thought. No memories of wrongs, said and done, but a curious intention of wanting to know, accept and understand. The concept completely forgotten once they were together.
With closed eyes she felt her loose, old blouse stick to her body, caressing her. She felt envious of it, for it had no memory of caressing her or of getting dirty or of being washed. Unlike her, who remembered every single thing about the Love Close to her, muddied with the thoughts, words and actions over time. As much as she loathed the thought, she knew no amount of washing could ever remove the gunk settled on their persons. It felt heavy and dark, like the grease collected over time at the Fryers, that has no choice but to catch fire, only to leave the remains of what was, what has been. Such is Life...She sighed and opened her eyes.
With closed eyes she felt her loose, old blouse stick to her body, caressing her. She felt envious of it, for it had no memory of caressing her or of getting dirty or of being washed. Unlike her, who remembered every single thing about the Love Close to her, muddied with the thoughts, words and actions over time. As much as she loathed the thought, she knew no amount of washing could ever remove the gunk settled on their persons. It felt heavy and dark, like the grease collected over time at the Fryers, that has no choice but to catch fire, only to leave the remains of what was, what has been. Such is Life...She sighed and opened her eyes.
