Perhaps today we can say that if she hadn’t in some way filled the void we would have fallen into it and died, and that yet, in our eyes, the way she had chosen was the most offensive one. But at the time in the piercing light of our cold stares, she couldn’t help but feel guilty of holding back something that would come and explain everything to us later, conversing in a calm and private silence.
Maybe as unfolding events went muddled in our minds, she squeezed our wrists hard, as if she wanted to harm us. As she paced up and down the waiting room, launching into a tirade of complaints because we weren’t paying any attention to her, we found we had lost our voices. When we finally opened our mouths to speak to her knowing that she wouldn’t be able to hear us, like stars that guide only in brightest daylight, in that brief moment, the heaviness bearing down upon us lifted. Happy New Year! we sang to her in a chorus of our best voices wrapped with bright, metallic paper - practically shouting, nearly shining, almost crying.
No comments:
Post a Comment