Aaron Kent & Dr. Lakata - Of Kites and Burst Capillaries by Aaron_Kent published on 2012/12/10 14:10:20 +0000 She holds chuck’s hand and plays with his jacket tells him she wants to see her mother and no other option he could present would be enough to take her mind off her mother. Chuck looks at her in the eyes and see two small hot air balloons backed against nothing but the ocean and the sky so flawlessly cut that you couldn’t see the horizon no matter what, just blue followed by blue. followed by a deep azure blue. He tries to pluck up the courage to tell her all the facts but in fact she’s stopped listening and she’s still begging for her mother back. She tells him how she would sit with her mum on the bench in the park, wooden and cold, but a cinema seat to her with the city landscape some feature film highlighting the highs through lighting that hides behind the lows we all know. But she doesn’t know, she’s too young to be told that sometimes, even the sun feels cold on those days you hide from the world. She tells Chuck how she could still taste the coffee from their thermos and feel the goosebumps when her mother asked her about that boy in school. She said they flew a kite once but failed every time after. The first time was a resounding success the second a complete disaster. Chuck tells her to smile to be that kite in wind or a thunderstorm enraptured by lightning so bright. To dance like nobody is watching to sing at the top of her lungs to cry until she feels happy to hum when all the words are sung. He tells her to be so glorious that people confuse her with ultraviolet rays to let that internal feeling of shining take over every one of her ways. She looks and she smiles and she strokes back his hair. Tells him it’s nice to meet him. Chuck. And he is desperate to ask her to call him Charlie. He starts to well up and feels a tear press near at the corner of his eye as he eyes the exit realising that his eyes are her eyes are his. Chuck leans in to kiss her cheek she asks to borrow the phone begs to ring her mum just once she probably feels alone. She tells Chuck her mother is in hospital and so far there’s no news to tell. She ties herself up in cardigan sleeves stuffed with discarded tissues and burst capillaries. She pleads to be released, the wheelchair hurts her knees. Just one last cigarette, then she’ll quit, please. She needs to demolish the need. Chuck knows she is no longer a cheeky smile or a loving grin but instead a vessel of memories that hide somewhere else within. Chuck’s mind begs him to tell her, to speak of absolute truths. But instead of revealing it all, he stands up says ‘bye mum I’ll see you soon.