the texture of life

wide expanses of hard surfaces
muted sounds striking them
floors
walls
desks
reverberating endlessly
– Auckland?
people moving slowly
or perhaps that’s just perception
soft announcer tones and electronic service messages
– Auckland?
it forms the surreal frame around Auckland’s face
he stands still
so still
– just let me…
they stand facing one-another
– let me look at you
inhale
– for a moment
exhale
what is he thinking about?
is it worry?
she closes her eyes and stops thinking herself
just let him
her lips part
eyes open
he is beautiful
– i don’t want to think about anything
he says quietly, staring at her
– of-course
she replies
footsteps swirl around them
electronic chimes
bursts of laughter
the murmur of conversation

the sound of plastic luggage rollers
increasing and decreasing in volume with the measured pace of footsteps
passing by and fading back into the white-noise

– do we have to go
Cairo whispers
Auckland doesn’t answer
they move closer to one-another without touching
she feels so near to him
breathes in his presence
the scent of his body and clothing
– i don’t…
Auckland begins, then stops
a pause
– i want to be safe
he is choosing his words carefully
– i want us to be safe
they stare
breathe
– Auckland, i want to drive
he doesn’t move
– i don’t want a driver, or a self-driven car
she moves her hand, reaches up to touch his forearm
but it makes sense to him
– of-course

it’s midday when Cairo drives into the city
equipped with a self-drive system, the black Mercedes two-door will return itself to the dealership, having driven itself to the airport
a scattering of grey and white clouds drift by overhead
she has always enjoyed driving and feels relaxed at the wheel
Auckland is pensive and stares out of the passenger window
they had done this before
– i want to drive
– where?
– anywhere
Turkey, India, Taiwan
she’d try and drive everywhere, if only once
– i wonder what it’s like
Auckland had said once
– hm?
– we’re in this traffic jam, but we don’t need to be anywhere
pedestrians were moving between the cars like water
– so we don’t mind that we’re not moving
he looked across at Cairo
– what if we worked here?
turned again to look out at the street
– or lived here? having the necessity of movement
Cairo inched the car forward with the rest of the traffic, then stopped again
– all of these people need to be somewhere, have to do something
– we have to do something Auckland
– but it has nothing to do with our transit today
– i know what you mean though
normal life
normal people with normal things to do
whatever shred of that she had ever had was now gone
– i don’t know, i can’t really picture what it would be like
– nor can i
– for that i imagine you need a normal life
she turned her head looked at him
– want to give it a try?
– what?
– normal life.
– here? in India?
– why not? it’s as good a place as any
he’d laughed then
a simple and unforced sound
not over-excited, but with an honest and open sense of humour
hearing it was like drinking warm coffee and feeling it travel down through her body

it’s been so long since Cairo has heard him laugh
or seen him smile
she looks across to him as they stop at a set of lights
he is always so still
she wonders if he shuts out the world
if that’s what he does to cope
cope with fear
with love
and herself? how is she coping with love?
she feels that nothing is clear
the life she has lived these last few years
the events of the last few days
nor those leading up to her separation from her friends
life is a haze
a wash of singular moments that all swirl together
working on tech and code before a Task
one of the countless fights she’d had with her parents as a teenager
a letter she’d written to a grade-school crush

Auckland and Venice covered in blood

she blinks
the lights are green
they may have been for some time, but no-one beeps her
she looks back to Auckland, but he hasn’t noticed anything
it’s coming back
the feeling that life is slipping away
that the texture of life is smoothing out, becoming featureless
she hadn’t understood Venice when he’d told them he was leaving
what the look on his face meant
but she can feel it coming to her
when they’d all left each-other, her emotions had been wild
anger, sorrow, anguish at the thought of being alone
it was disorienting
a disorientation that eventually began forming into detachment
and it made sense what Venice had done
she had slid down into a well of nothingness
for months she’d struggled to connect with life

Cairo wonders now what she is connected with
the life she had maintained is again in upheaval
through the windows of the Mercedes the city passes by but she hardly sees it
a part of her brain, anticipating some kind of impending trauma, is guiding the car for her
it’s slowly taking over her body and moving it through the necessary motions of life

she puts her free hand down by the centre control surface between the seats, driving with one hand
Auckland moves his arm and takes her hand in his own
she turns again to him, still staring out of the window