Heat And Water

Some memories I’d rather forget of course, but I have one, that, was different.

I drove to the gym, to the car park on the top floor with no roof, with vast views over the eastern suburbs, down into the harbour and the city. There was a rare hot wind that day, very hot, more than 30 degrees, as I left the car, and took in the view I began sobbing, just, hopeless, helpless crying, I went to my favourite corner of the carpark, and looked down to the sun set, over in the east, and noticed that the wind was so hot, so strong, that all my tears had dried before they left my face, and fell off onto the floor. I don’t really cry much, but I was, very upset about Stephen, honestly I was more upset to hear about Stephen than I was Terence, I think because, I had made such vast effort to reconcile the loss of Terence, but Stephen wasn’t supposed to die, he’s too young, too decent, one of the few people you meet who is actually involved in the world, not just his own little one, I don’t know many people like that, I don’t think there are that many out there either. The idea that someone so deserving should die upset me in this deep fundamental way.