Last Friday A. – visibly eager for a conversation - made me come to a stop on the hall at the university. Our talk ran smoothly, sentences exchanged like the ball in ping-pong, the thread out of control. About absolutely nothing, with both of us interrupted halfway, going to places to do things.
Maybe I wouldn't have been so surprised, if I hadn't had to carry the immense load of silence only the day before when I was sitting next to A. at our dance classes, and hearing a one word answer after each of my desperate attempts to engage in the conversation.
I'm wondering whether it was a matter of coincidence or A.'s remorse.
Now it's one of the Sundays after the weekend at parents' place. In the fridge I have some herbs from my mother for the days to follow. To keep me strong.
No comments:
Post a Comment