Mittwoch, 3. August 2016
Raspberry Clouds
quadrotriticale, 14:40h
“Is it raining down there?”
“No, just windy,” I answered, playing around with the phone in my hand.
“As usual.”
As if to prove his point the wind sped up a bit that moment and caught the edge of my scarf. I tucked it back, and closed the topmost button of my coat as well, effectively sealing it in place.
“Does this mean you wear your hair up all the time?”
I laughed. “Yes. Unless I want it over my sandwich.”
“Mmmmh, remoulade hair,” he cooed.
I had to laugh again, because that stirred up memories.
“We had drinks on you last night, you know?”
“Aw, that's sweet.”
“Well,” I said lamely, “you know us.”
“You should have ice cream on me, too. Wait, you went down to the pub without me?”
“It had to happen at some point,” I said, attempting to catch out old messing-around tone. “I miss you, you know? We all do.”
“I know. I wish I could be with you.” He sounded sad now, and I regretted saying it.
I was silent for some time, because I didn't know how to continue.
“Tell me about it,” he asked.
“About what?”
“Everything. What you see, what you hear. I'm trying to be there.”
I swallowed, but had to smile. “The sea is calm today, which is weird, but pretty. I can't see the beach, I sat down, and the cliff is too steep. The sun's already setting, it's ridiculous. But the light's fantastic, the sea is one huge diamond. Like, the sky is still very light, but the bit just over the sea is this really bright orange and the clouds – man, I wish you could see that.”
“What about the clouds?”
“They're very fluffy, sort of creme-coloured, but where the sunlight meets them they're so pink they're almost red, they look sort of flat, like... like pancakes, but out of whipped cream, and with raspberry jam.”
“Raspberry Clouds – good name for a band,” he stated.
“You should write that down,” I laughed, and then I sighed. “What are we doing here?”
“You're making me hungry with delicious cloud-descriptions, and I...”
“You...?”
“I don't really... know.” He sounded incredibly sad when he spoke again. “Tell me more.”
My heart broke that moment, and I continued with tears running down my face. “The air's not as salty as usual today. Most of the tourists have gone. I drink a lot of tea.”
“How's the writing going?”
“Good.” I nodded, even though he couldn't see it. “No, yeah, really good.”
After we had been quiet for a whole minute, I heard his voice again. “We're not gonna start with awkward silences now, are we? It's just... distance.”
“Technically-”
“I know it's annoying you, but you should wear your hair down. It looks nice when you do that.”
I swallowed again, but before I could respond I heard a different voice behind me. Old Mrs. Svenson, who had sneaked up on me.
“Are you all right, lille?” she asked in her creaking, adorable voice.
“Yes, I'm fine Mrs. Svenson.”
“I just came for the flowers... I'm not sure you should be sitting here in the cold, love.”
She looked at his gravestone, and back to me sitting in front of it, and for a while all I could hear was the sea murmuring softly, and all I could see was the date from three months ago etched in stone.
“I'm okay, really,” I answered, and went to get some ice cream.
Liv
“No, just windy,” I answered, playing around with the phone in my hand.
“As usual.”
As if to prove his point the wind sped up a bit that moment and caught the edge of my scarf. I tucked it back, and closed the topmost button of my coat as well, effectively sealing it in place.
“Does this mean you wear your hair up all the time?”
I laughed. “Yes. Unless I want it over my sandwich.”
“Mmmmh, remoulade hair,” he cooed.
I had to laugh again, because that stirred up memories.
“We had drinks on you last night, you know?”
“Aw, that's sweet.”
“Well,” I said lamely, “you know us.”
“You should have ice cream on me, too. Wait, you went down to the pub without me?”
“It had to happen at some point,” I said, attempting to catch out old messing-around tone. “I miss you, you know? We all do.”
“I know. I wish I could be with you.” He sounded sad now, and I regretted saying it.
I was silent for some time, because I didn't know how to continue.
“Tell me about it,” he asked.
“About what?”
“Everything. What you see, what you hear. I'm trying to be there.”
I swallowed, but had to smile. “The sea is calm today, which is weird, but pretty. I can't see the beach, I sat down, and the cliff is too steep. The sun's already setting, it's ridiculous. But the light's fantastic, the sea is one huge diamond. Like, the sky is still very light, but the bit just over the sea is this really bright orange and the clouds – man, I wish you could see that.”
“What about the clouds?”
“They're very fluffy, sort of creme-coloured, but where the sunlight meets them they're so pink they're almost red, they look sort of flat, like... like pancakes, but out of whipped cream, and with raspberry jam.”
“Raspberry Clouds – good name for a band,” he stated.
“You should write that down,” I laughed, and then I sighed. “What are we doing here?”
“You're making me hungry with delicious cloud-descriptions, and I...”
“You...?”
“I don't really... know.” He sounded incredibly sad when he spoke again. “Tell me more.”
My heart broke that moment, and I continued with tears running down my face. “The air's not as salty as usual today. Most of the tourists have gone. I drink a lot of tea.”
“How's the writing going?”
“Good.” I nodded, even though he couldn't see it. “No, yeah, really good.”
After we had been quiet for a whole minute, I heard his voice again. “We're not gonna start with awkward silences now, are we? It's just... distance.”
“Technically-”
“I know it's annoying you, but you should wear your hair down. It looks nice when you do that.”
I swallowed again, but before I could respond I heard a different voice behind me. Old Mrs. Svenson, who had sneaked up on me.
“Are you all right, lille?” she asked in her creaking, adorable voice.
“Yes, I'm fine Mrs. Svenson.”
“I just came for the flowers... I'm not sure you should be sitting here in the cold, love.”
She looked at his gravestone, and back to me sitting in front of it, and for a while all I could hear was the sea murmuring softly, and all I could see was the date from three months ago etched in stone.
“I'm okay, really,” I answered, and went to get some ice cream.
Liv
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