Tangibility
Tangibility
She longs more for memories than wishes. Moments that remain tangible no matter the year or hour of day. Details that never fade with the tricks of time or are altered by the frailty of the mind. Her life is a search for those memories, some long passed and most yet to be made. What they will be is impossible to tell. Even then as they are in the making, there is no feeling, no eureka with light bulbs that blink neon through the hazy monotony of life. That comes after, once the excitement is gone and everyone has left. You realize it when you’re alone and uninfluenced by the preferences of others. Alone you can indulge in what your heart really wants.
The most recent one she’s made, and she’s made a lot while in this magical land, was hardly a day ago; perhaps only hours ago. For the moment, her mind races with what once was. It’s always the most insignificant things that are prominent. He was there, Evan was. There was nowhere else for him to be. The two are essentially alone, although surrounded by people, where ever they went here. From the warm shores of the Mykonos to the cold mornings of Kiel in November, they had travelled alone meeting relatively no one for longer than a casual conversation or a recounted bragging of city names and dates. Neither dislikes the solitude. Their travels are not about making friends. This year is about testing themselves, discovering who the other truly is and seeing if their relationship is really strong enough to hold up in the next step. Sometimes it is, at other times, the prospect of until death is longer than either wants to remain essentially handcuffed to the other.
Yesterday he was being quiet. Breakfast was finished and by the afternoon they had already been shopping for a while. Lunch is unheard of here. It is possible to have one but it is far from natural. She had given up on it but Evan said he was hungry. It’s not hard to find something to eat, food is everywhere and anywhere. Cafes, ice cream parlours, fast food, grocery stores, anything imaginable and cheap. This is where the memory starts. They had chosen a quaint cafe with cups that had nothing to do with the Danish name and tables outside with ashtrays. Evan always wanted one of those, especially after they went shopping.
Ordering is still hard. Everything looks the same but sounds completely different. This time around she had almost no trouble, she was not hungry. “Ein Kaffee, bitte,” is simple enough to tease off of the tongue.
Evan had more trouble. “Winnie, what do you think this is?” He wanted to know. His dark eyebrows were all scrunched together and she could almost hear his thoughts as he tried to break down the words on the paper.
“Get that, it sounds like what we had last night.” He didn’t like her suggestion. He didn’t want what they had last night all over again. “Fine, do what you want.”
His appearance in that moment is just as tangible as every other part of the memory. The darkly tanned skin of his hands peaked out from the cuffs of his favourite red jacket, the one with Carlson embroidered on the shoulder in thread that matched the colour of the fabric so much so that the words were nearly invisible. His brown eyes were focused completely on the menu card. The sounds of the people at other tables fell flat on his ears while, for her, they demanded full attention. As Evan frustrated himself over a language he did not understand, she revelled in the musical sounds of the words as they fell so easily from the mouths of the native speakers around her. Words that she will never fully understand but also never forget.
Her coffee arrived with another bundle of those words. Evan was still hunched across the table, now stuck between two dishes he was sure to be surprised by anyway. While she watched him, partially amused and little annoyed at the delay, her hands wrapped around her coffee cup in a subconscious attempt to keep warm. Her brightly painted red fingernails tapped against the saucer and caused the miniscule Plätzchen to tink, tink, tink across the porcelain.
“Just decide.” She said in way that was admittedly harsher than needed. “We wanted to go to the museum today.”
His dark eyes shot her a glare that too was admittedly uncalled for. “We have time.” The tone of his voice was dark with irritation. Still, he beckoned the waiter, because calling is impossible, and ordered.
Now he had time to smoke. Gently he fished a pack, which changes with nearly every country, out of his pocket and knocked a single cigarette into his hand. The pack then disappeared, but not before he offered her one. Despite the coldness outside, Evan’s lighter flared to life on command and emitted a flame just as good as the day he bought it. Satisfied, he leaned back into the metal chair. “I forgot about the museum.” He confessed.
This upset her because it was something she had been looking forward to. Obviously, he had no interest but she had gone with him to that show in Frankfurt... For a moment she thought about whether she should pursue it. They would fight again about it. In the end, no one would enjoy the day. It was still tempting however, to relieve her annoyance, until she glanced at the silver ring on her finger. Three deep breaths later and a smile, her heart thumped in her chest and she remembered those words: till death do we part.
This whole time he seemed lost in thought himself. Just as she began to smile, he jerked his head up, away from thought and promised, “We can spend the whole day there if you’d like.”
“Yeah,” She said, “I’d like that a lot.”
The most recent one she’s made, and she’s made a lot while in this magical land, was hardly a day ago; perhaps only hours ago. For the moment, her mind races with what once was. It’s always the most insignificant things that are prominent. He was there, Evan was. There was nowhere else for him to be. The two are essentially alone, although surrounded by people, where ever they went here. From the warm shores of the Mykonos to the cold mornings of Kiel in November, they had travelled alone meeting relatively no one for longer than a casual conversation or a recounted bragging of city names and dates. Neither dislikes the solitude. Their travels are not about making friends. This year is about testing themselves, discovering who the other truly is and seeing if their relationship is really strong enough to hold up in the next step. Sometimes it is, at other times, the prospect of until death is longer than either wants to remain essentially handcuffed to the other.
Yesterday he was being quiet. Breakfast was finished and by the afternoon they had already been shopping for a while. Lunch is unheard of here. It is possible to have one but it is far from natural. She had given up on it but Evan said he was hungry. It’s not hard to find something to eat, food is everywhere and anywhere. Cafes, ice cream parlours, fast food, grocery stores, anything imaginable and cheap. This is where the memory starts. They had chosen a quaint cafe with cups that had nothing to do with the Danish name and tables outside with ashtrays. Evan always wanted one of those, especially after they went shopping.
Ordering is still hard. Everything looks the same but sounds completely different. This time around she had almost no trouble, she was not hungry. “Ein Kaffee, bitte,” is simple enough to tease off of the tongue.
Evan had more trouble. “Winnie, what do you think this is?” He wanted to know. His dark eyebrows were all scrunched together and she could almost hear his thoughts as he tried to break down the words on the paper.
“Get that, it sounds like what we had last night.” He didn’t like her suggestion. He didn’t want what they had last night all over again. “Fine, do what you want.”
His appearance in that moment is just as tangible as every other part of the memory. The darkly tanned skin of his hands peaked out from the cuffs of his favourite red jacket, the one with Carlson embroidered on the shoulder in thread that matched the colour of the fabric so much so that the words were nearly invisible. His brown eyes were focused completely on the menu card. The sounds of the people at other tables fell flat on his ears while, for her, they demanded full attention. As Evan frustrated himself over a language he did not understand, she revelled in the musical sounds of the words as they fell so easily from the mouths of the native speakers around her. Words that she will never fully understand but also never forget.
Her coffee arrived with another bundle of those words. Evan was still hunched across the table, now stuck between two dishes he was sure to be surprised by anyway. While she watched him, partially amused and little annoyed at the delay, her hands wrapped around her coffee cup in a subconscious attempt to keep warm. Her brightly painted red fingernails tapped against the saucer and caused the miniscule Plätzchen to tink, tink, tink across the porcelain.
“Just decide.” She said in way that was admittedly harsher than needed. “We wanted to go to the museum today.”
His dark eyes shot her a glare that too was admittedly uncalled for. “We have time.” The tone of his voice was dark with irritation. Still, he beckoned the waiter, because calling is impossible, and ordered.
Now he had time to smoke. Gently he fished a pack, which changes with nearly every country, out of his pocket and knocked a single cigarette into his hand. The pack then disappeared, but not before he offered her one. Despite the coldness outside, Evan’s lighter flared to life on command and emitted a flame just as good as the day he bought it. Satisfied, he leaned back into the metal chair. “I forgot about the museum.” He confessed.
This upset her because it was something she had been looking forward to. Obviously, he had no interest but she had gone with him to that show in Frankfurt... For a moment she thought about whether she should pursue it. They would fight again about it. In the end, no one would enjoy the day. It was still tempting however, to relieve her annoyance, until she glanced at the silver ring on her finger. Three deep breaths later and a smile, her heart thumped in her chest and she remembered those words: till death do we part.
This whole time he seemed lost in thought himself. Just as she began to smile, he jerked his head up, away from thought and promised, “We can spend the whole day there if you’d like.”
“Yeah,” She said, “I’d like that a lot.”