A Start

There was nothing he could do. The room was shitty but he was stuck there for at least another two days, maybe even three or four. Five at tops. But after five he had a feeling he would go mad, maybe even die. He flinched and turned. A sound caught his eye. No, it was nothing. Just a moth.

6,000 miles away, she paused. She saw a butterfly and thought of him. Just like that. She hadn’t thought of him for weeks and now a butterfly settles on the beer bottle in front of her, and she thinks of him.

Where do they start? A grey day, a rainy day, or a sunny day? A sunny day, though it didn’t last. It turned grey, then it rained. She looked at him, then something caught her eye and she turned suddenly. Look, a squirrel, she said, and he said so what? She frowned and looked up. A cloud passed over the sun. They found a café, and then two cups of cappuccino. The cappuccinos smelt bad, he remembered that much. They both stirred for almost a minute, losing themselves in the rhythm of stirring, not even realising, then looked up at each other and laughed spontaneously. Then they smiled at each other, naturally and pleasantly. She took his hand and smiled, sweetly. He put his other hand over her hand, then it goes to her hair where it stays until she gently took it off. He can’t quite recall but thinks it’s then that she kisses him. They leave their cups almost full and walk. Another squirrel runs on by. It's raining. They stand under a tree, slightly wet. They kiss again. They share a cigarette and dream a million dreams, living a million lifetimes of a million lifestyles. He suddenly felt drained. She’s drained him. Her eyes looked hard, her pupils dilated as if she were on heroin, or in love.

They both have fond memories of the park, though both with different people. She remembers rowing with her best friend Laura, when they were children. He remembers his parents and the swans. Swans can kill you, he remembers his dad telling him one day. One whack of their wing and it’ll break your back. He didn’t believe something so beautiful could be so strong, or nasty.