Tuesday, May 20, 2008

The Break-Up

I am calmer today, but not much. The sun is behind me, trickling through the back of my skull, past my retina, into what I see. And I see a shiny screen pretending it is my life, a mass of letters and symbols making out they are me.
      It's so soft, this sunlight. It's casting gold onto the wall, nudging against a shadow of purple flowers and green stalks, against my pink curtains. Curtains plump and pinched in the middle like two old ladies. But their colour's gone sepia, it's just a fading simulacrum.
     It might sound stupid, but I can feel how blue the sky is behind me; I can feel it bathed in its 8 o'clock glow. Children are shouting. Traffic is coming, going... then suddenly a motorcycle. My stomach is growling.
     I could almost believe that the world is still, moving only silently, a little way this way, a little that. A smooth stalk growing steadily towards its sun. That we all will sleep soundly in our beds tonight, and wake tomorrow to a fresh, dewy morning.
     How dull, these things I fantasise. How dull, the mechanism of peace.


Jonathan said...

This too shall pass.

Hell it's a right old cliche but it's a godd one.

blackwingedboy said...

Beautiful writing, as usual from you.

So much affection and love to you, Clare. There are people thinking about you all over the world, about the hardness of this and about your ability to journey through it.

Do take care of yourself and know that you are well cared for by us.