Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Deciding to play a hunch on a relationship is not always the safest thing to do. But sometimes, it's the only thing to do. Now, why on earth does that make so much sense, and yet seem so vague? Why on earth is it practically impossible to define a hunch?
Play a hunch then, deal the cards, hold them to your heart, and pray that the 'other guy' doesn't catch on to what you're doing. It's a game of poker, or Black Jack, or Beggarman's Neighbour - but then, does that mean I'm trivialising it?
Time to deal. New story on Gabbles, and it's called Sliding Doors. Yes, the title is similar to that movie with Gwyneth Paltrow, but I've never seen it (though I've wanted to!), and so this one is completely uninspired by it. What I felt was the tenderest moment in the piece is:
Sentences, frayed and misty, with common words and threads that somehow link them together. I'm not even aware that my cheeks are wet, but I can feel his fingers on them, brushing and wiping and strong, and soothing. He tells me not to cry, and I find that ridiculous (because I'm not crying, am I?) and he tells me it's alright. He smokes a cigarette, and I would rather look at the stream of smoke playing filigree on the darkening sky, than his thoughtful eyes.
"It's alright," he says. "I've never been with someone so much younger than me. I wondered how it could happen now. But I hoped... But it's alright," and he smiles at me, as if I'm the one who's heart is broken now, "There's so much more time. It's alright."
Do take the time and peek in sometime.
Post a Comment