The Bitter Wine Memento
A Bag of Summer Savoury
The restaurant is almost empty, except for two men sitting in a corner, talking low-voiced, dealing with suspicious items that constantly travel over the table from one to another hand.
The bottle has arrived. I have poured myself glass and glass again of the deep red liquid. I feel myself getting more sottish by the minute. I will drink until I’ve intoxicated myself blind.
"Until the bottle is empty."
My voice is dry and cracked drowsily on account of the high level of alcohol in my blood. I am narcotized sick. I try to focus ahead of myself, on something warm and fluttering. When I eventually manage, I realise it is the wick of the dying candle, an inch away from its lethal fate. And so my memento beguilingly retrieves me.
§
This afternoon I left my apartment for the last time. I had tried to read a little, even studied a few passages of the Bible before coming to the understanding that it meant and did me nothing. I put on a thick coat and decided to walk around the old part of the city, hoping that I would run into Dana Sue leaving work. I had come to the conclusion that it would be wisest to tell her straight out, since she was not the kind of girl who would realise on her own that this love was one-sided. The heat at the bottom of my belly burnt the inside of my skin. “I must tell her now, I must speak to her” I told myself.
A surprise awaited me, for the herbal shop door stood wide open, its entrance blocked by a pompously authoritative and looming officer. He held out a white-gloved hand as I approached him.
"Sorry, sir, the shop is roped off at the moment. I am sure you can do your herbal shopping (these words emphasized with a patronizing tone) tomorrow, when we have restored it."
I reacted in anger. What made this man think he could deny me my mission of setting things straight at last?
"Restored it? And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean? Look here, I need to speak to someone…"
"Don’t we all! Now, step off, please."
"Couldn’t you tell me what’s happened?"
The bobby suddenly seemed to collapse size-wise, deflating into the smidge of a man he was. His lips twitched into a malicious sort of grin and he pushed his neck back in a turtle-like manner.
"Well, I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but I guess if they’re not told…"
"Yes, yes, tell me already!"
"That girl who works here, that Ms Anderson, she was found dead in there not two hours ago."
My body froze. Suddenly I noticed the cold of a London autumn squeeze around my wrists and ankles. It bit itself onto my neck and sent an icy serum of British weather crawling through my veins. Dana Sue was dead?
The gossipy corruption of a police man nodded knowingly, as if the news coming from him would make him more flattering in my eyes. I was disgusted, close to spewing on the cobble-stone carpet below. I felt repulsed and angry, but no part of me felt sadness.
"She was found by a customer, her head shoved into a bag of dried summer savoury. First thought she had drowned in it. Can you imagine that, drowning in savoury? Turns out the girl had been hit in the back of the head with one of those steel spades that you pick up your lentils with, you know? The blow cut her so deep she died instantly! Remarkable seeing as there’s so little blood, see. The men are looking into if it’s the father, seeing as he’s known to be a little protective, you know. Story goes that she met a man not fully to daddy’s liking, if you know what I’m on about. Perverted bastard, eh? Well, you know about those American girls, never can keep their legs closed…"
I did not listen further than that. My vein that was at first throbbing had now gone into a quiet slumber on my temple. My clenched fists fell out of shape and a wave of calm swept over me. The world, in its sizzling mist of a sky, its deep forests of splinters and strings and its essence of sickly-smelling spices and air, air, air, was at last obvious. It was all so clear.
"… But you know I think the shopkeeper did it. That old hag always has been a little shifty, I think. You know some say she can summon evil spirits. I personally don’t believe that crock, but there’s something real wily about her… oi, where are you going? Not telling anyone, right?"
I left the bobby to his suspicion and white gloves.
The bottle has arrived. I have poured myself glass and glass again of the deep red liquid. I feel myself getting more sottish by the minute. I will drink until I’ve intoxicated myself blind.
"Until the bottle is empty."
My voice is dry and cracked drowsily on account of the high level of alcohol in my blood. I am narcotized sick. I try to focus ahead of myself, on something warm and fluttering. When I eventually manage, I realise it is the wick of the dying candle, an inch away from its lethal fate. And so my memento beguilingly retrieves me.
§
This afternoon I left my apartment for the last time. I had tried to read a little, even studied a few passages of the Bible before coming to the understanding that it meant and did me nothing. I put on a thick coat and decided to walk around the old part of the city, hoping that I would run into Dana Sue leaving work. I had come to the conclusion that it would be wisest to tell her straight out, since she was not the kind of girl who would realise on her own that this love was one-sided. The heat at the bottom of my belly burnt the inside of my skin. “I must tell her now, I must speak to her” I told myself.
A surprise awaited me, for the herbal shop door stood wide open, its entrance blocked by a pompously authoritative and looming officer. He held out a white-gloved hand as I approached him.
"Sorry, sir, the shop is roped off at the moment. I am sure you can do your herbal shopping (these words emphasized with a patronizing tone) tomorrow, when we have restored it."
I reacted in anger. What made this man think he could deny me my mission of setting things straight at last?
"Restored it? And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean? Look here, I need to speak to someone…"
"Don’t we all! Now, step off, please."
"Couldn’t you tell me what’s happened?"
The bobby suddenly seemed to collapse size-wise, deflating into the smidge of a man he was. His lips twitched into a malicious sort of grin and he pushed his neck back in a turtle-like manner.
"Well, I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but I guess if they’re not told…"
"Yes, yes, tell me already!"
"That girl who works here, that Ms Anderson, she was found dead in there not two hours ago."
My body froze. Suddenly I noticed the cold of a London autumn squeeze around my wrists and ankles. It bit itself onto my neck and sent an icy serum of British weather crawling through my veins. Dana Sue was dead?
The gossipy corruption of a police man nodded knowingly, as if the news coming from him would make him more flattering in my eyes. I was disgusted, close to spewing on the cobble-stone carpet below. I felt repulsed and angry, but no part of me felt sadness.
"She was found by a customer, her head shoved into a bag of dried summer savoury. First thought she had drowned in it. Can you imagine that, drowning in savoury? Turns out the girl had been hit in the back of the head with one of those steel spades that you pick up your lentils with, you know? The blow cut her so deep she died instantly! Remarkable seeing as there’s so little blood, see. The men are looking into if it’s the father, seeing as he’s known to be a little protective, you know. Story goes that she met a man not fully to daddy’s liking, if you know what I’m on about. Perverted bastard, eh? Well, you know about those American girls, never can keep their legs closed…"
I did not listen further than that. My vein that was at first throbbing had now gone into a quiet slumber on my temple. My clenched fists fell out of shape and a wave of calm swept over me. The world, in its sizzling mist of a sky, its deep forests of splinters and strings and its essence of sickly-smelling spices and air, air, air, was at last obvious. It was all so clear.
"… But you know I think the shopkeeper did it. That old hag always has been a little shifty, I think. You know some say she can summon evil spirits. I personally don’t believe that crock, but there’s something real wily about her… oi, where are you going? Not telling anyone, right?"
I left the bobby to his suspicion and white gloves.