Extras
All sms through the city any partying and banging against the solitary stray that no one has anything to say. To land on a lover or perhaps just a guy like that, in passing, and that makes bits of texts, perhaps would make a nice novel. Or just memories, it will erase it: today we do not even know if they still belong to us and then they take up too much space on the phone's memory card. Move along. The solitary
see them go, hurry, while they have all the time, it may even be anything left to them, time. The caller waits
it sounds, it's there, tense, impatient, and he did not ask questions, yet he jumps up to answer. And during that time in Africa, they are people who have no water for drinking or washing. Or vaccines. Nor to eat. Even a place to sleep. And not only in Africa and more. Someone commits suicide somewhere / someone born / someone wants more than anything a tray of fries and 4 hours of the night.
But for someone who is expecting her sms, nothing matters more.
phones ringing in a vacuum is.
Flowers that fade .
Surrogates.
Flags windless and buffets abandoned.
There are so many stories that do not start and quite a few others who are burning out.
The phone rang just now by telling me it was my mother calling. The phones allow this crazy thing: there are a number, he was a suitable owner, and you can pout when someone who you do not want to talk calls. We can even mute to continue to talk with someone you wanted to talk. Technology, I swear.
There, my phone displayed "The Mary".
Yes, it was quite impossible to register
"Mom" , I have a hundred reasons to support this, mark my word. Also, I recorded his name, wearing a definite article and oh so defining a time associated with the capital before his most holy name. La Marie. Mother to me. Jesus had better behave themselves.
My mother does not, usually. Simple as that. So when it does, I expect ... I do not even know for that matter. I expect to be surprised, knowing that I will be. I expect something I can not name but I think she could, for example I saw legs and open up the floodgates. In all, I expect. You never know. I answer as anxious when I tremble. Bobble, I serve a "hello mamounette?" insured, because I feel that it is for me to provide.
Loved the son who respond only by silences between sobs are lost in the city in my head and crossed lovers sms that I have not sent. They understand, finally. They are in the same boat, some years before a few years, others for several years. We all suspended.
It not often that you hear his mother crying from day one that nobody has seen fit to remember. When that happens, you're never prepared. That the writers of life, they decided that it would happen like that, it's more folk. They want it to be unannounced. They say that, "folk" and "unexpectedly" in a meeting around the table with their coffee and smokes, with the idea to recreate the real life so that the viewer finds himself in the character. Identifies. This is important identification.
And if the character is not found in the character, what they are doing them, and me, what do we do? And if I was not ready to hear my mother crying for real, not ready so that nothing comes out of my mouth, either, if not the beginnings of tears copiers of his?
What about the scenario and the audience? Everyone is bored, then I swear, there's not enough action, too much emotion, that's more any seller this mess today.
Fortunately, I have always prepared myself to be petrified that day. Every time the lady called, I sit up, I take a deep breath, I stand straight and relaxes my shoulders by a theatrical movement of the head, almost waiting to hear the distress in his voice tremolo rant all I have in the drawer reserved for that time. Hair cell. She said nothing, his silence and trembling breath stutters, it's good, I go, I'm doing, I give everything, we will launch.
"You know, it's normal ... (I'm still shaking head like my girlfriends were actresses during florent before ... do nothing) is normal that you ...
-...
-Forgiveness.
-...
-... I thought I was prepared for this. Know what to tell you when you going down. I repeated this scene a hundred times in my head. I knew that one day you call me to be me talking.
-...
"I thought that if I was not ready and I told you, you would say something instead of irregular breathing. And it would help me.
-...
"But you say nothing ...
-...
-...
-...
I say it is not possible, I have no right to miss a moment so that I have been waiting so long, hoping it never happens. (So, by taking the bull by the horns, I tell myself that I must recover from the order in my notion of logic, time, hope and expectation.)
"It is normal to be afraid. Just because you're my mother you're invincible. I really thought you were invincible, you know, up there not long ago. But hey. ... Thou art not, right?
-... As much as you.
-Shit.
-You 're invincible to me.
"That's why you call me when you cry?
-No. I have already cried before without calling you. You know, I'm your mother and ... BUT I am human. So I've cried. But that does not concern you. I have not called.
-...
"You understand?
"It's my turn to knowing what to say.
"That is why I call you.
-... ? I do not understand.
"It is the first time I call, crying without any particular reason to cry so I have nothing to say. Nothing to hear.
-Fun ...
"I feel things due to my age, time, and soon my death. It makes me think of you. But there's nothing to say about it. There is time to share heightened emotion without explaining anything. Without doing too much, especially.
I remember when all I had prepared in case. It's like magic it deserves.
"No but you're kidding. There ANY to explain to the contrary.
I walk by talking. I walk through the apartment and the details still encrusted in the important moments. For example, before taking my breath for it to open my drawer, I pick up an ash deposit and a dirty glass in the sink.
"You see, I picked one ash that was lying and I put a dirty glass in the sink and yet ...
-... You do the housework every day I hope? "
Grandma!
-What?
-I 'm trying to tell you about something.
"No I am talking to you about something.
"Then tell me what?"
-...
"You begin again with your silences.
"I thought you loved it, the silences.
I love it, the silences. My mother knows me too well, while ignoring everything that happened in me since we no longer live together, that is, all my life, but it's true love silences.
I changed direction and I pass the second.
-You 've re-quit?
"No I took here, there's 5 minutes.
-Ok. Smoke a cigarette all the time. Without saying a word.
-not much you smoke?
Grandma!
-Ok, ok, let it .
I light my cigarette
.
I wonder if she has the fire, I tell myself, just for a moment that I loved her lit cigarette next to her on the couch or I sit still and do not ... if I cry too, side by side, we would look ridiculous like that in place of onions. I light my cigarette. I hear his lighter rolling stone. We do not say anything, we play the game
I just say "You know, I'll go on my balcony, we did that, we're going outside, we look at the city when you smoke a cigarette with someone on the phone" . No response and no question of me either, I do not want to ask if she is still here, I do not care perhaps.
I finished my cigarette.
meantime, I did not think of anything but her. I watched the buildings and finally realized that for a city like Paris, not many apartments Y'avait lit at night. I said no, it was not because the rooms were full of love wrapped in their duvets and dark, what it can, but because it sleeps, it sleeps, it dies and it may be in the phone black. I wondered if there were many mothers in these buildings that were cap 'to call their daughter when they touched the highest for themselves. I did not dare ask me how many girls mastered this situation because, imagine if only one would have pushed to throw my laptop through the balcony. And me. Now, I need this notebook. Plus, I'm on the phone, then I would remind you, donc j'ai besoin de moi aussi.
-Je pense à toi alors que t'es au bout du fil, t'es dans le noir?
-Dans le flou plutôt.
-C'est allumé j'veux dire chez toi?
- Rires .
Elle rit. Elle rit tellement qu'y a des fenêtres de l'immeuble d'en face qui s'allument, je vous jure!
-Je croyais que tu voulais dire...
-Oui alors que
-Oui et d'ailleurs
-Ouais, c'est allumé chez eux? (là vous pouvez pas comprendre)
-A ton avis?
-Mmmmh, à mon avis, c'est flou.
-C'est fou.
-J'allais le dire.
-Oui mais je l'ai dit d'abord.
-Oui mais t'as tout fait "d'abord" anyway. It is not
"It is not the game ... Manon?
Yes, that's me. That's how did you want to call me anyway.
-In you, I did not ask it on? If this still-
for you to tell me ...
-I speak no electricity bills.
Grandma?
Yes, that's me. Well, that's why you decided to call me anyway.
-Mom, you think there are many people who understand each half-word?
"You mean, in the dark or in the dark?
-I mean, like us.
-...
-You 're moved.
"It is a question? You
-yes, Y'avait your voice that rose to a question mark. Me neither.
"You wanted to say:" like us "point. With the voice that descends.
as in JT-Yes.
-No.
-Si.
No, I mean, no, I do not think many people understand each half word.
-Even people who come out of somebody's womb.
"It was a question.
-Oh shit, we forgot to raise the voice in question mark.
"Perhaps because we do not care.
-Mom, when you say "who cares" I feel good that you got I do not know how many years older than me, because me, spontaneously, and yet I am not vulgar, though I can be really, I am NOT vulgar spontaneously, but I still tend to say "who cares".
-Who cares.
-You 're right.
-I 'm always right, I'm your mother, you understand that in the dark and who was there first.
Grandma?
-...
-...
I know.
course she knows. Sure. But maybe for once, to see, as an experiment, I might try to say. I'm starting.
- When you put your TV on standby, it uses as much electricity as burning when you leave right?
"I think I love you you.
Shit. Shit. I missed my shot. I'm ahead. I like throwing my phone from the balcony of a neighbor who would know what to tell his mother and m'emmitoufler under my duvet with my darkness.
Let's pretend it was not disconcerted.
-Bah. Still happy.
-No.
if -Bah.
No, I think I love you you. You as you are. Not because you're my girl. Because you're my girl, I will always love you, I can not do otherwise even with the best will in the world.
-Ok. It suits me.
No, it does not suits you, you understand nothing. But I love who you are. You would not be my daughter and I met you, I know not where or why or short, I love you. What you're you. You alone. You. You I love you. Not because you get out of my uterus as you say.
It Hits a lot of people who make you cry
(wait I am one) 57 words?
is really disgusting. It was for me to say nice things. I wanted to be the kind of both. Always do it while Preum's.
not cry-I, is not it.
you cry if you want.
"I have no desire.
-Ok.
"It's just that it was I who had to say nice things. And besides, whatever you say, just because it looks cool just as I get out of your uterus. That's it.
"That is why you respond to boys when they say nice things?
-What?
- "you say that just because you go out of my ..."
-Ha ha, not t'oses.
-no but you got good understood.
No, I understand. I understand nothing. I want to go back into your uterus. Leave me alone. Please.
"It is not possible, I will die soon me it can not walk your story.
-Here, you really we're talking about something else because otherwise, uh, I will not answer anything. But
-Manon, you will not answer anything, generally. It's not like why I have high, but that's how you're.
-...
And yes.
And you. You, you answer for what?
-you. I answer for you.
"It's not a life.
-A that you say ...
There's a double appeal appears on my screen and into my ear. I accepted the offer because it is cheap and the seller of the operator with which I subscribe was fun and a little désepséré. But the thing is poorly thought out, the speaker also knows that I'm already online. If you are not responding, it's worse than a call that sounds in a vacuum or falls immediately on a mail, if it does not continue is that we prefer to speak with someone else. "Call waiting with caller" ... Hmmmm, "call that is not worthy of being taken by your correspondent.
I find myself still looking at who they are knowing that no one deserves to interrupt this conversation, these monologues Crusaders. Apart from god. Or Elvis. And they do not phone, them is well known, they appear to us at the bottom of the tunnel with white light or I know not what.
is a gallant. Strangely, I feel like to cut short, ok, find the gallant, and ok, go to a bar, and ok, take my uterus and, okay, forget these words I can not say.
-Are you listening?
non-Yes but I had a double appeal, what are you saying?
"Take it, take it, I'll call you later.
"No no, it's not important.
"That's who?
-Bah, I'll ask questions?
-... Some yes, there's even got an age where you wonder "why" about everything.
-How?
- (with a voice she wants child, but between us is a little missed) And why people they smile? (with an authoritarian voice she wants, which is about as successful as the child's voice) Because they are happy. And why it s are happy? Because it has happened to them something nice. And why it has happened to them something nice?
Yes good, bah you also wonder why you got from that to why this all the time when you were little, it goes eh.
-Oh no, I found the answers in the books but I left my mother alone.
-in books, see bah. Pfff. As if in the books we explain why it happened something nice to someone ...
-Find the answer in a book was something nice happening to me anyway.
-Ok, so you always answer to everything anyway?
No, not always to my question "Who was the person who called you?"
-Boy, you know.
Yes, since you'll no present, no wonder I do not know that.
"Because you want me to present them to you maybe?
- "The"?
-Bah ... Non-
but mostly not, I'm not that kind of mom who makes dinner at perhaps future husbands while trying to learn their genetic past to ensure the health of the grandchild coming ouhlala , no thank you.
-Bah here.
Yes but that does not prevent you tell me about it either.
-Bah now, I've said everything there.
"I still love to smoke a cigarette please.
-I like.
I hear his lighter, more. I puffs so huge that on my Camel 4 times, it is folded. I'm on my balcony, leaning, I think of this picture where Marilyn as a person pretends to be happy, anything to convince you that everything will be okay.
While in reality, it re-FLE-chit to the least worst way things could unfold.
I wish that my street is in New York from time to time.
Say "jetaime" that told me the world would sound much more simply in English. And it would walk between larger buildings, among people more alone in the midst of apartments brighter.
-maispastrop-
