06 September 2010

episode from a long time ago

while clearing out files from my computer, i came across this piece written in 2008. only two years ago, and yet it seems like forever. those events and memories have been deeply buried, and i'd like to keep them that way. i'm posting the piece up however, because i like the writing, and i know i will most likely never finish it.. (the idea was to write a short chapter on each 'episode'/suitor, with the ideal finale being on the guy i actually married. needless to say, it was far too painful to get through more than what i have below!)


She looked at the list in bemusement. There were names, numbers and places. She was supposed to choose her husband like this? She closed her eyes, subconsciously hoping that when she reopened them, the paper would have gone, perhaps replaced by a marriage certificate. She just wanted the process to be over, to begin a new life without actually making any surreal or gut wrenching decisions.


As she sat on the sofa watching him walk along the hallway and into the lounge, she tried to swallow her disappointment. He was skinny and had terrible acne. But he might be really intelligent and funny, she told herself. His awkward communal greeting and fidgety seating did little to improve her impression. That she herself might not have made any better an entrance in such circumstances did not allow her cut him any slack; she expected potential suitors to possess far more self confidence and panache than that. If only she could just put an end to this right now.

After some more terribly awkward moments, the two of them were walking towards the park. They began a stilted conversation without looking at one another.


She was relieved to find a newspaper that she could bury herself in amidst numerous toys scattered around the hall. She read of the latest scandals surrounding the US presidential elections with equal measures of resignation and contempt. Comments made by World Bank officials regarding developing economies resulted in a smirk, while an eyebrow was raised at the announcement of the Booker prize being awarded to a novel on India’s sordid dark side. Within these pages was a world she was familiar with, a world that she was part of. If only she could stay here.

Y plopped down next to her. “So, how was it?” Had she really been expecting her wish to come true?

She lowered her newspaper shield reluctantly and squirmed a little on her seat. “Well, it was… okay, I guess.”

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