She looked at these shelves, these empty shelves... She can hardly recognise her room, with all the boxes and old papers around. Cases of tapes with no instrument to play them, and the empty shelves trying to hide to cover their nudity.
Yes she is leaving. Leaving her dear books behind tied with thin cotton ropes in piles on the ground in that room. her history is there, alas her life is there... She has always loved her books, she develops a story with each one of them, sharing a memory with each of the papers she touches, the pages she turns and the words she reads.
Yes, she is just leaving... And leaving her books behind. Leaving her memories behind.
She knows, the sound of the tape holding the boxes folds means that sad good bye. She was waiting, and holding her tears. She has to look brave, but she knows it is good bye. She has to breathe the fragrance of the left behind, she has to hold her tears in front of the beloved faces, devouring them with her eyes, it is the last time.
She went back to her room for the last time, touched the cold empty shelves, tears dropped on these boxes, closed the door... And whispered to them..."GOOD BYE"...
The empty shelves are just that, it was her soul that was holding back.
Aye carrumbah! You sure nailed that one, my dear... Been there - a few times too often actually... whew!
ReplyDeleteBut we don't have to leave the memories behind...