Friday 7 September 2007

Broken Sky

On TV when someone is dead, the doctor or whoever needs only to pass a hand over the face of the dead person and their eyes close. Maybe they need to be newly dead for this to work. She was still warm when I got to her but maybe not warm enough

I think for a second about trying to draw her eyelids shut with my fingertips but can't bring myself to try. No more than I can bear her wide staring eyes or stiff unnatural pose.

***

"Are you sure you're OK? We could get a taxi, or stop the night here,"
"Nah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it. It's not that far anyway."
"You're sure?"
"Sure sure sure! Shut up and get in the car,"
"OK, Bossy-bum, shut up yourself!"


***

The red and blue lights spark a brief reflection in her eyes which quickly fades into darkness before being rekindled by another flash.

The dizzying interchange of light and dark changes but doesn't change her face. The light moves and it seems she moves with it, surrounded by a galaxy of glass stars in an asphalt sky that blaze in time, blue then red.

Did she blink when the lights blinked out?

***

I put my head down on the table in the vague hope that by closing my eyes I can divert that energy to my ears and maybe finally manage to grasp what's going on. That's the kind of logic you get on four hours of sleep. It probably doesn't help that I've put my head down on the scarf. The conversation seems to have become muffled, even though my ears are uncovered, my lecturer is drifting away. This, I discover after a moment, is because I had dozed off. I hadn't meant to. It isn't that I'm not interested, I am. Unfortunately my body has its own priorities. I shrug off my jacket, hoping that the reduced warmth will wake me up a little and pray that I haven't been snoring as I try to pick up the thread of conversation.

***

"Miss? Miss? Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

There are hands on my shoulders, someone is trying to look into my eyes, getting in the way, getting between me and Bron. I push them away.

They try to lift me up and behind them I see the car, nuzzling up to the telephone pole. It looks like it's winking. Passenger-side of the windscreen gone. Driver's side door hanging open. I don't want to see.

***

Bron is waiting when I get out of class and grins at me when I roll my eyes and let my tongue hang out.
"That interesting, huh?"
"I'm telling you, I never sleep so well anywhere else,"
"You're not going to fall asleep at the party are you? It's a twenty-first so my cousins probably started their preliminary drinking yesterday and it's too late to designate another driver..."
"No, I'm fine. I'm still good."
"Party party?"
"Party party!"


***

There's a blanket around my shoulders, I'm sitting in the back of a van and someone is shining a torch in my eyes. Beyond the light of the van two men are slipping Bron into a big bag.
"Sweetie, can you hear me?"
I look up at the woman holding the torch. Her hair is bound back tight, she's wearing a uniform. She smiles at me and gives my hand a squeeze.
"Well your eyes are responding OK. You're a little cut up but your seatbelt saved you from going through the window. Can you tell me what your name is?"
"My name?"
"Just to let us know you didn't bump your head too hard,"
"It's... Bron... Bronwyn,"
"OK Bronwyn, well you're going to be just fine..."
I close my eyes and draw the words tight around me, trying to use them to drown out the sound of a long zip being pulled closed.

***

Bronwyn you're going to be just fine you're going to be just fine Bronwyn
Bronwyn you're going to be fine just fine just fine fine fine fine Bronwyn?



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