[continued from yesterday…]
Maisy watched. The woman was now trembling, struggling to hold her mobile in her hand and make a call at the same time. She looked up to the see where the best light was, and moved nearer to a spot under the lamppost. It had started to rain, a light rain.
Bringing her mobile to her ear, she started pacing up and down, until her call was answered. She talked furiously into the mobile, hardly catching her breath. Maisy could not understand a word that was said. The woman was speaking a language that she had never heard before!
The woman was now closer to the window and was visibly shaking. Whether it was the cold or her anger, Maisy could not tell. The woman kept talking, pacing, flapping one arm and dragging her hands through her hair, that by now was getting rather wet as the rain became heavier. She suddenly stopped, biting her lips- she was listening. But her fury got hold of her again and with fiery eyes she started yelling, hitting her chest with the fist of her hand.
Suddenly, she raised her face to the sky, her eyes closed, soaking in the rain which had become heavier still. Dropping her arm by her side she slipped her phone in her pocket and with a deep and loud cry, her body crumbled into a ball. She sat at the edge of the pavement and clasping her knees tightly together she buried her face, sobbing uncontrollably.
Maisy was saddened and wished there was something she could do. “I don’t even know what it was all about!” she thought.
And yet, she recognised the rage, pain and desperation that the woman was feeling. These are feelings that trascende any language barrier and Maisy thought that after all she did not need to know why. “They will pass,” thought Maisy melancholy “but for now, they just are“.
The lights on the Christmas tree on Lovelace Gardens kept flicking in the dark.