MY FRIEND
“Who is Austin?”
They were sitting on the grass by the bridge. She was lying on her back. Staring at the clouds.
“Why do you want to know?” she asked.
“There’s a text from him on your phone.”
He handed the phone to her. She sat up, read the text. Lay back down.
“Put it back in your pocket. There might be a couple of calls soon. You don’t have to do anything about them.”
“You should really start wearing jeans instead of all these dresses.”
“Look, there’s a cloud in the sky that looks like a table lamp.”
“It looks more like a seahorse to me.”
“That’s because you’re an idiot.”
The warm afternoon breeze wafted by. It smelt heavily of smoke and diesel. It smelt faintly of vanilla ice cream too. She wondered how would a smoke flavored ice cream taste like. What would it look like?
“There are a lot of calls from him. Austin. Who is he? Why don’t you pick up his calls?”
“I’m looking at the text he just sent. I hope you don’t mind.”
He opened the text and read it out loud.
“‘You want me to leave you alone, don’t you? I will. But first, just give me a reason why you would do that… and then a reason why you would do this… You understand what I mean, don’t you?’
What is he talking about?”
There were birds in the sky. Kites. They were dancing on the wind.
“He’s a… friend. More than a friend. I don’t know.
The day before I…The day before I met you, we fought. About something.. I haven’t talked to him since.”
“Does he know that you tried to kill yourself?”
She winced. She couldn’t see his face.
“He’s a… very good friend.”
That statement was wrong…
“He was.”
It was still wrong.
The vanilla ice cream. The smoke in the air.
“That cloud looks like an old man with his cane.”
“I wish I were dead.”
He looked at her. She had her eyes closed.
“I am thankful that you aren’t.”
In the skies, the clouds and the kites remained oblivious to their spectators. They went on dancing and swaying in the wind, the wind that to some that smelt of smoke and ice cream.
****
THE MORNING RAIN
She wakes up to the sound of the morning rain on the windowpane. The soft patter of the rain is to her like a song, a song softly whispered by the trees and the clouds and the grass and meant for only those who could truly love the music.
She sits up. Like every day, she picks up her cellphone.
“It’s raining here,” she types.
It won’t be long before the reply arrived.
It isn’t.
“It’s raining here too”
“Good morning”
“And a good morning to you too”
Typing…
“And how do you plan to attend to this beautiful day?”
She wonders how does she plan to spend the day. Almost on instinct, her gaze wanders over to the books on the table.
“I think I’ll spend the day saying hi to some faraway paperback friends that somebody recently introduced me to”
Outside, she can hear the faint sound of the traffic.
“Well, well…Do be sure to ask your new friends how they like their new house.
I hope you get to know them as well as I did.
Take care, stranger.”
A faint smile dances across her lips. Even now, she is still a stranger.
She puts the phone away, and grabbing a book, settles back onto her pillow. She lays the book by the pillow. She feels as if she’d forgotten something…
The phone buzzes again. There is another text from him.
“My car says it wants to take me out on a drive. Would you want to join us too?”
Wasn’t it wonderful how some people could read your mind, even if they were a thousand miles away? Wasn’t it wonderful to be able to know such people and to be able to have them in your life just for the sake of how happy they could make you feel?
She types her reply and sends it.
She remembers what she had forgotten.
*****