27. |
Brian is lying in his bed; it is Tuesday
morning, he doesn’t have to work and it’s raining. The bed is warm and cosy and
he is thinking about the way the heat under the covers holds him like a cocoon.
Alice is sitting by an open window looking
at the dessert; she has to work later but now she is sipping from a cup of
ginseng tea. She is thinking about the dryness of the desert air and how much
she misses the rain.
Her phone is on her lap and she has just
sent an e-mail.
The e-mail appears in Brian’s inbox almost
at the same moment, but he doesn’t notice it at first; he is reading the day’s
newspaper on his laptop.
He too is drinking tea, black Indian tea
with milk, no sugar.
Lent is approaching and he will give
something up for the period; maybe alcohol, maybe chocolate, though he has cut
down on both since being ill at the end of January.
Alice has forgotten all about Lent, no one
speaks about it in the desert and, like rain, it is not part of the day-to-day.
Anyway, she has given up so much in the
last year there is little that remains to be given.
Maybe her phone; she uses it too much, but
her friends are far away and sometimes the desert is lonely.
She could give up the desert, but the space
and warmth hold her, as much as the warmth of his bed holds Brian.
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