Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Closeness - a story I wrote at the creative writing workshop
He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading again one of the sad emails of A. He was one of his best friends from his youth and her lover. U. died with 60. Suddenly he laid on the kitchen floor. Dead. Since then A. is mourning. She writes very sad emails to friends. She does not want to live anymore, she does not know how everything shall go on. She has been too young when she met him, she means. E. shows me the email. I read. Then I stand at the kitchen door, rather touched by the intensity of the sadness. E. looks at me: "You weren't so sad when I would die." I laugh loudly. He looks at me and after a little break he laughs back. We both are laughing and are close to each other. He knows me, I think, and he doesn't want to change me. I shall be very sad if he wouldn't be anymore. But not too long. I'm not a child of sadness. But who knows.