together they crossed the street , turned in the oppsite direction , and disappeared .
when i got home , i went up into the spare room and searched for nathna's notebook . it was no longer there . up on the wall , the painting of the white roses presented its challenge . the bruised , dying petals scattered at the base of the vase sent a mocking message . it was alll so brief .
downstairs in nathan 's study , my shameful search continuted . i scanned the bookshelf , opened drawers , riflied through the filing trays .
nothing .
was i going mad with suspicion and suppostion ? possibly . i glanced up and caught a blurred reflection of myself in the window . there was a woman in danger of being suffocated by hatreds and guilt , and there was no kind surgeon's scalped to drain the poison .
after a while , i had to accept defeat . nathan had withdrwn from the conversation . he was covering his tracks and denying me the tiny glimpse he had given of himself .
perhaps if i had renamined silent in true , repressed english silence , then it would have been different . perhaps if he had known that i knew but had not tried ti turn into words , then it would have satisfied him ? nb . no marks here to successful relationships .
a scarlet woman possessed the virtue at least of being useful . we need sinnners in order to feel superior . to be the other woman , as poppy had indicated , also had its uses . the role of the second wofe trailed way behind in interest and excitement . but that was what i was left with . no doubt the moral .ists would rejoice , and i was prepared to allow them - having first insisted on having my say . nathan was unhappy with rose .
downstairs in nathan 's study , i picked up the post-it-pad and scrawled onto the top one . don't go .
i stuck it on the filing cabinet .
No comments:
Post a Comment