The windy block
I went for a stroll around the neighbourhood block yesterday. It was a dark and windy evening and those who dared to go out had worn their hats and put their stiff collar up. I was wearing a dress that reminded me of my grandmother’s bedroom curtains. It could have been the floral pattern of the fabric or the lining of its edges, but I felt like I was in her bedroom saying goodnight for the last time. It was a beautiful dress, with a skirt that flowed under my shawl.
The houses around here were grand, with front gardens that looked more like parks and large steps that led to what I liked to imagine were halls covered with intricate moulding and art. Despite the grandeur, each house was quiet, lacking any sign of life — all, except one, where a man stormed out of the house while a woman stood at the door saying something I could not hear.
Putting his hat on and carrying one piece of luggage, he moved in my direction with furious steps. I don’t think he even noticed I was there because he bumped into me as I stood on the pavement, captivated by the way he carried himself.
“I’m sorry Miss, are you hurt?”
“No I’m alright. Are you alright?”
“Pardon me darlin’ but you women are mad! I’ve just left the most exhausting woman I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Why would you do that?”
“My wife is a defiant, fiery little child and our marriage was one long battle. I want to find peace again in life.”
“Is that all you know how to say Miss?”
We stood there on the pavement; he looked puzzled as he held on to his luggage.
“Darling, you look like you’ve had a handful already, but listen, why would you want peace when you could have that?” I said, while pointing to the direction of his house; his wife must have gone indoors by then.
“I’m sick of it, I’m sick of it all.”
“Oh now come, do you really want to trade passion and defiance, for peace of mind? Do you think you’ll ever bear a quiet life after the thrill of such a relationship?”
“I won’t go pleading back to her, I won’t.”
“Something tells me you won’t have to darling. Now, why don’t you go walk around the block for a while until you calm down, I’m sure your wife would not let a man like you get away.”
Story credits: Gone with the Wind (1939); Valentino Haute couture.