Brown widow

January 20, 2017 at 9:12 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
743px-agapanthus_praecox_mhnt-bot-2009-7-4

What we do in life …

It is dusk.

I chat on the warm footpath with the widow next door.

She don spik Englis so good.

I no spik Greek at all.

So she’s ahead on points.

We usually get there in the end.

She ask how am I.

I say I’m OK, but dizzy (gestures) from the hospital pills.

She ask why I am in the hospital.

I pause, realising this topic will be even tougher than our council’s three-bin waste cycle.

I point to my head and say it is sick.

I point to the church hall down our street.

I talk about a man who did bad things to me (and lots of other kids) a long time ago.

I glance at her face, to see if my words are small enough.

Unexpectedly, we lock eyes.

Through these wet, brown, Mediterranean portals, I see.

Her grief, her loneliness, her inability to keep up with everything.

And her children’s thirst to flog her home of 40 years.

I wait for her reply.

She nods slowly,

turns,

points to a riot of Agapanthus and says,

‘I think this is too much for the bin.

I don kno if the man – he will take.’

For some seconds, I plan an entirely different response.

Then, I assure her all will be well.

And that if the man – he no take,

I will call the council.

Personally.

Epilogue

He take.

Pic by Roger Culos.


If you found this interesting or entertaining you may like to:

Even a buck or three will keep me in the hunt. With many thanks, Paul.


Advertisements

3 Comments »

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

  1. Here’s an exchange I just had with Joanne, who knows too well what it’s like to lose someone. Thank you, Joey, for letting me reproduce your wonderful words:

    Oh Paul. Words fail me. I felt like I was there. I feel your grief. It brought me to tears. Keep writing. I hope it helps.

    Dear Joey, I don’t think words failed you at all, then. You made yourself very clear. Your encouragement here is beyond price. Fond regards and thank you so much, P.

  2. We need better buttons than ‘Like’. But, Like. Aye, keep writing.

    • Many thanks, Ad. I always appreciate your endorsement when you give it the old-fashioned way. P.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.
Entries and comments feeds.

%d bloggers like this: