Sunday, May 23, 2010

143. The comforting quiet

They had been friends since 2nd Form high school, when they took elective art with Mr Clegg in the Tech Drawing block behind the weather sheds. Both Sue-Ellen and Nance had indulged in relationships occasionally and, indeed, had married. But few things are permanent, few things save Neil’s singleness. Neil had never indulged. He did not know how to, or why.

They had always met regularly, rarely letting it lapse more than two or three weeks. However, once they turned forty a change came over their relationship. An unstated need hovered above them, a need for family. Without being so gauche as to verbalise this, they started meeting regularly. Every Wednesday they packed a thermos and a salad roll, gathered their artist’s tools and repaired to a quiet part of the harbour.

As they sketched the numbness eased. Trust grew and they each let the other in. Just a little.


corticoWhat said...

Well done. I believe I would have gone in the same direction with that photo. I guess it is in his body language.

Joan Elizabeth said...

At Easter we renewed aquaintance with two bachelor friends. They each live wonderful full lives which we have now rejoined. There is a solidity in old friendships, a shared past that feeds the future.

Julie said...

There is a solidity that validates the possibility of a future. That reads like a sentence devoid of meaning.

As one ages, the future looks empty and the past looks hollow and devoid of significance. What have I achieved? What have I contributed to the greater good? Meeting lots and lots of new people, is less satisfying that a shared past. It is the 'remember when' factor.