“What are you doing?”

“I’m writing a note.”

“What’s it for?”

“Whoever finds it can try and save me. They can take me away from here.”

“I’ll help you. Just tell me. What to do.”

“No, you can’t help me. You don’t exist.”

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“We don’t know for sure. But we’ll deal with it, alright? I’m here.”

“You’re right. Here I am. I’m not dead.”

“You’re not welcome here.”

“I’m just minding my own business. Please.”

“Why don’t you go back to where you belong?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“We’ll send you back to where you came from. Come on guys.”

As you have chosen to affirm your willingness to enter into this covenant of marriage,
Referring to the Judgment made in this action on the 6th day of May 2009,
before God, and these witnesses;
whereby it was ordered that the marriage in fact had and solemnized
repeat after me, your marriage vows:
on the 7th Day of October 1985 between
I take you, to be my wife,
be dissolved by reason
to have and to hold from this day forward
that unless sufficient cause be shown
for better or for worse,
to the court within three months from the making thereof
for richer, for poorer,
why the said Judgment should not be made final,
in sickness and in health,
and no such cause having been shown,
to love and to cherish,
it is hereby certified that the Judgment was made final
from this day forward
and that the said marriage
until death do us part
was thereby dissolved.

“Hey, why are you crying? What’s the matter?”

“I’m just reading these letters, for research. And I can’t believe it. I’ve never seen so many I love you’s written down on paper. So many times. In every one of them.”

“You’re reading love letters?”

“No. These aren’t love letters. These are suicide notes.”

“You look different.”

“Don’t I always?”

“No, there’s something else different about you. It’s like, I see you now.”

“Really, that’s a strange thing to say. What do you see?”

“I see beauty.”

“That’s not me. That’s my life. And it’s too beautiful not to share it with you.”

“Here, take this. Send your girl to school. Make sure she never ends up doing what you do.”

“But Sir, my man when he find this, he gonna beat me. You seen him.”

“Just try your best to keep it from him, give her a chance.”

“The beating I am willing to take. He won’t no kill me when I can still work. But Sir, he will take your money and it will go to waste.”

“That’s alright. It all goes to waste anyway.”

convalogues now has a sister site: love is not/ love is

“And I had to slam the door going out. What a fucking retard I am.”

“Come on, you didn’t know then. It was a rough time. Nobody knows what will happen.”

“We all know. Don’t fucking tell me we don’t know that. It hurts enough already not being able to say goodbye. I can never forgive myself for that.

She would never have done the same to me.”

“Thanks for asking. Even when I tell you no, I hope you realize I’m happy that you ask. Nobody asks, usually. About anything.”

“Well, I don’t think about it. I just ask when I need to.”

“You’re blessed, do you know that? I’m glad I know you. It is true. Every relationship must begin with a question.”

“Where are you going?”

“To light the candle.”

“You don’t have to, dear. She’s back. She’s back with us now.”

“I know. It’s for all the other parents. They will be reliving the same nightmare tonight.”

“You lied?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Wait. What exactly did you lie about?”

“You remember when we first met? And I said I would not trade my life for anyone else’s? Well, I lied about that.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean? Why are you telling me this now?”

“Seeing what you’re going through right now, yet being unable to do anything about it… it’s not something I can handle. I just wish I could take your place. Trade my life for yours.”

“And how do you think that makes me feel?”

“I understand. But I’d still do it.”

“Won’t you stay a while longer?”

“I’d love to. You know that.”

“But like always, you can’t.”

“Let’s not make this difficult now.”

“Take me with you then. I’ll go anywhere with you. Just say the word.”

“It’s not that simple. Anyway, you don’t need me to be happy.”

“Maybe. But I prefer the me whenever I’m with you.”

“Idiot! Why did you go drop it? You know how to do something as easy as carrying stuff, don’t you? Or is it too much to ask for an idiot?

Why are you crying now? You’re doing this to me on purpose, aren’t you, idiot? You think you can go cry and make everyone stare at me now, huh?

Just look at you! A grown man, yet you’re crying like a baby. You’re a baby. Idiot.”

“I’m sorry, mom.”

“Come, hurry! Run! Let’s go now!”

“Where are we going? Wait up!”

“Hurry! Before it’s too late!”

“Too late for what? What are we running for?”

“I don’t know! Just run!”

“You don’t know?”

“Haha! Do you know?”

“Don’t let me catch you! That’s what I know!”

“Oh wait! I remember now.”

“What?”

“I was running from you.”

“You’re a brave man. I really admire your courage sometimes.”

“Sorry son. I’m afraid there’s no courage in what I do. I’m already gone. If you know what I mean. What’s keeping me alive is simply unfinished business. Once that’s done and over I’ll be gone. Gone from this world. Gone for good.”

“And when will that be?”

“Only God knows. My life ain’t mine. It never was. Never will be.”

“I don’t get you. You make the choices in your life. If you want to, you could just walk away from this now, couldn’t you?”

“Ain’t never happened like that boy. Choice is something your mind fools you into believing that you have. Having a choice keeps us sane. Thinking we’re in control. In control enough to live like the wretched fools we are.

Let me ask you this. Would you breathe? Would you breathe so freely if you knew? That for every breath you take, you see someone else exhaling a final one?

You can’t. We gotta live like fools son. That’s the way it has to be.”

There she was. Nothing could be more welcome. I could not imagine that bed without her.

“Is she asleep?”

“Yeah. I had to read the Gruffalo, twice. We need to get a new book. For my sake, at least.”

“You’re still worried, aren’t you?”

“I can’t feel safe until the second result comes back.”

“This is quite unlike you. What happened to the optimistic man I married? Full of hope and energy?”

“Had I known the possibility of this happening, I might have let you run off with Mr Prom King. He certainly has more hair than I do now.”

“That’s not true. You could always make me laugh. You still do.”

“So you chose a balding jester over a Greek god? Should I be worried about that too?”

“Come what may. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

They squatted together uncomfortably. Huddled with the group against a wall bathed in a hue of soft pink, she studied the older girl’s empty gaze curiously.

“What’s your name?”

“Shush. You want our heads to be boxed?”

“What’s this yum yum they want me to do?”

“You’ll find out. The man with the red mark will teach you. Learn it well if you know what’s good for you.”

“I don’t like the way he touches me. Does he do that to you too?”

“You’re still too young. One day you’ll understand.”

“Okay.”

I traced my fingers along the cold wall. The drawings were innocently simple, oblivious to the tragedy that once surrounded.

“What were they thinking, when they were in here?”

“I can’t possibly imagine.”

“But they probably knew they were all going to die, right?”

“What do five and six-year-olds know about death? What do we know about death?”

“They know only flowers and butterflies.”

The couple stood amidst the sea of bustling people. Her shopping bags suddenly felt weighty. And the pretty Christmas lights did not seem so pretty anymore.

“Why? What’s the matter?”

“It was the clinic. The embryo. They found out that it was actually eleven weeks old.”

“That can’t be. It didn’t happen that long ago.”

“Don’t you realise? It was ours. Ours. We killed our own baby.”

The two girls knelt together in the shade. Far, far away from the people. The setting sun gleamed as a shard of broken glass passed through their hands.

“You really want me to do this?”

She lifted her frail dress. “Yes. From here until here.”

“This will stay with you forever.”

“So be it. There is no other way. You have to understand, I’d rather die than be with him.”

“Don’t cry. I know you’d do the same for me.”

The massive tyres ground to a sharp halt as a plastic bottle rolled forward beneath the seats.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting off with him. He’s blind and he missed his stop. He doesn’t know how to get there.”

“Huh? What about me?”

“You can come with us.”

“You know what, it’s been a long day. And I’m really tired. There’s no way I’m gonna wait another half hour for the next bus.”

“I’ll call you when I get back then.”

“Are you serious? You mean you’re just gonna leave me here alone? For a blind man?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

A file slammed on the desk. His eyes were bloodshot and his unshaven stubble could not mask the smell of gin and cigarettes. It didn’t matter. He would have his shower soon.

“Congrats. Heard you nailed your guy. So why do you look like a lemon just dropped out of your ass?”

“When I started this job, I wanted to get the bad guys so badly. Put the evil mother-fuckers behind bars forever.”

“That’s what you’re doing now, aren’t you?”

“It’s nothing like that. Most of these people, they don’t even come close to evil. They’re just fucked up people. With royally fucked up lives. Most of them from fucked up families, if you wanna call them families.

It gives me no satisfaction. How am I supposed to tell them that they deserve to be put away cos life dealt them a shitty hand?”

“You don’t need to. They found out the moment they were born.”

The night was cool as we lay on the grass, holding our hands in a tight grasp. The skies felt close to us. At that moment, our lives were in another universe.

“Isn’t it strange? That some of these stars we see right this very moment have already burnt out. They’re already gone.”

“Do you promise to watch them with me till they’re all gone? Or at least, till we’re gone?”

“There’s no such thing as forever. You know that. Promises are meaningless. People break them all th-”

Her finger was soft and gentle.

“Hush. You’re right as usual, and I love you for that. But don’t you see? Right now, all I want is a promise.”

“I promise.”

The peaceful quiet of the office was punctuated by the soft whirring of a distant printer. The two women gazed at the city nightline through the lounge window, and saw themselves in the reflection.

“How do you get over something so horrible?”

“You never do. I still won’t let my boyfriend touch me.”

“Maybe you should get counselling. Therapy might help.”

“Maybe… if it wasn’t my therapist who did it.”

We watched the sun set. She turned to me and gestured with her hands and arms. I had to smile. She was right. It simply wasn’t as romantic when we had to keep swatting at mosquitoes the size of dragonflies.

“I was surprised that you know sign language.”

“Not many people know that. My brother’s a mute.”

“How’s he doing now?”

“He’s okay.

Sometimes I find him smiling in his sleep. And I know. That he’s singing in his dreams.”

She looked exhausted and emotionally drained, but her hand managed to reach up for his as she called his name. A name she had fondly called for the past twenty odd years. Fresh tears flowed freely from their eyes.

“Why didn’t he wait for me? I was planning to visit the both of you when I had the time.”

“He should have, but he didn’t. You were busy.”

“Why couldn’t he wait for just one more month?”

“I don’t know. I feel the same way as you do.”

Both our makeshift rods held still in the calm waters. She had already caught twice as many as I did.

“Is it true, that where you come from, everything is beautiful? The shops, the people, the clothes… everything?”

“It’s a different kind of beauty, I guess. Everything is either new, fancy or shiny.”

“And there are no poor people?”

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

The old man pointed a crooked finger at the clock tower across the cafe where we sat.

“That clock has never worked. Nobody here alive remembers when its hands last moved.”

“Why doesn’t anybody fix the clock? It can’t be that difficult right?”

“Young man, I sell rabbit skins. I don’t fix clocks.”

An albino woman led a blind man off the train through an unforgiving crowd, enduring a few hard knocks and some rather unkind bumps.

“I wish I could see,” A wish he often repeated to a nobody he often spoke to.

He felt her hand pat his, led by her shoulder.

“If you could only see the looks people can give.”