urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:thirteen_months thirteen_months thirteen_months 2008-08-14T13:32:16Z urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:thirteen_months:4852 2008-08-14T13:32:16Z 2008-08-14T13:32:16Z Finally getting back to the <i>Thirteen Months</i> mindset. This drifted into my head over lunch today - very short, but I rather like it. <br /><br /><a name="cutid1"></a>What you take has to have equal value to what’s being given. <br /><br />The young woman sat on the bench outside the hospital, tears dripping erratically onto the paving slabs between her knees, knows this. The Old Man sitting beside her doesn’t watch her cry. Instead, he watches the cars going past, feels the flickers of emotions from the occupants within. Heartache, disbelief, joy, confusion, anger; brief moments that trail past leaving him wanting more. Over the top of all of this, drowning it out, are the waves of sadness from the girl next to him on the bench. <br /><br />Finally, she lifts her head and stares straight ahead. “You can take it,” she says. <br /><br />Silently, easily, he lifts the memory of her wedding day. “You have one hour,” he says. <br /><br />She turns to face him. “Thank you.” Then she stands, and runs back into the hospital.<br /><br />The Old Man turns over the new emotions in his head, nerves, excitement, and an overwhelming sense of happiness and belonging. As strong as the grief he’d just felt, as she watched the man in the memories dying in front of her. One more hour together, and for her, the memories had equal value. Maybe in a year she would feel differently, when she looked at photographs and realised that she remembered none of it happening. Would she remember why? He gets to his feet and glances towards the hospital; an ugly grey building with a sea of cars parked outside. Even from this distance he can feel gentle pulses of sadness and hope, but he’s had enough of this place for one day. Time to move on, always time to move on.