<習作六>

 


volume 1.

"


*

She blinks several times.

I thought she was going to squeeze some tears out. But she didn't.

Then she opens her eyes as wide as they can.


She is wearing all black, except for her shining white shoes.


" I used to be a brave kid," abruptly she says.

"I could hold my head up when I walked on the streets."


"I was such a confident kid that I didn't really understand what failure meant."

"But I can't do that anymore.Because I started to fail after the greatest moments of my life."



I know what she's really trying to say.


She taps her fingers on the table. Those are the prettiest and the most delicate fingers I've ever seen.


I watch her subconsciously doing all that idle movement.

"Are you going to eat that? I'm gonna eat it."

I shake my head slowly, implying consent.



"Man, this tastes good....oh shit, I'm bleeding."


She starts to swear, in a mild imperceptible way.


I see her lift up her right hand.There is blood infiltrating one of her nails.


"Why in the world my nail bleeds when I'm doing nothing but eating!"



I tell her it's because she's playing with all those tiny hooks under the table as we're talking.


"Well-spotted. You are good."


No, I'm not.

I can see that because I'm watching somewhere else when we talk.


I'm looking at her slender shanks.

She didn't shave her legs. But I'm not offended at all.

Her stark white shoes are stained.

I count how many dots are there on her shoes.Precisely EIGHT.


She can't stop moving her legs when talking. I watch as she crosses her legs from one to another.



Those skinny white legs.








*

She is a weird figure.


I always thought of her as a shy, reticent girl before I got the chance to know her more.



She didn't talk much the first time we met.She simply stared at me.

Or I shouldn't say it was a stare. Because she didn't look me into my eyes. She merely stared at the person sitting in front of her.



"Hey, what were you staring at when I first saw you?"


She stops her tapping. And at this awkward moment, she merrily looks up.

"A rash on your neck. Reminds me of the allergy I had when I was little."

"Allergic to heat. How dumb it sounds."



Not exactly, I say. "You're not allergic to heat."


She sneaks a glance at her watch.

"I know," she frowns.


"Miliaria.Prickly heat.Whatever. It's all because of heat.I blame it on heat."
 

It's interesting to see her pronounce the word "blame".She tends to purposely close her lips strenuously.



BLAME.


"I BLAME you for inviting me to lunch today. You're making me anxious."



She's always anxious.Anxious about life, about people, about how much money she should spend a day.





"What are you going to do tomorrow, " I asked.



"Nothing special."



"Perhaps I'll try to go to the library.God knows when was the last time I read."



"Good."






Then we leave the restaurant.

She wrenches her face because the sun is harsh to the eye.

And she waves goodbye. Determinedly, she turns about and walks into the misty backdrop made of the pervasive sun light.



........................