She couldn’t really recall the exact moment, she has, however, this feeling of being early evening. The sun was about to set and there was this orangey light on the street. He was going out and she was coming in, so they politely greeted each other at the gate. He smiled – his whole face smiled beyond politeness, there was a true kindness in that smile. Ahimsa smiled back – they were neighbors after all and they would see each other for the following next nine months or so.
This is, in fact, the first memory Ahimsa has of Georges. Then there are these faded images of talking on the steps of the house and sharing some deep philosophical thoughts. And the story telling at bed time… But I am getting ahead of myself and of Ahimsa’s own ability to recall memories, for more than places, words and images Ahimsa remembers Georges as sweet, as tender, as a great listener. She remembers the warmth of his arms around her, the gentleness of his touch, in spite the chiseled body. And the huge kindness of his smile.
Oddly enough, what had brought them together and brought about their friendship it had been his anger, rather than his sweetness and infinite patience. Of course it was all about a girl, as usual is. She just had the knack to drive him insane, to push him to the limit, to transform him. She was something else.
January and the evenings are bitterly cold, the new year has just arrived with rainy days and cool evenings. There would not be that many passersby at the streets looking at the Christmas’ lights one last time. The airport was surprisingly warm and crowded. It was Friday, right after supper. Ahimsa’s heart was tingling with happiness and anticipation, it had been eight years since she had last seen him.
[to be continued...]