Broken pieces – Prelude

This time around, as always, the clock broke the silence with harsh suddenness. She was still half asleep, yet its voice was unpleasant, so she put it off, even though she would have actually preferred to push it off the ledge of the cabinet. “Five-fifteen… I have another 15 minutes” she thought.

She kept her ears open, even though she tried to make herself fall back into dreaming, but at this time the noises never allowed her to do so; she heard the slamming of the door of the neighbour’s car, the steps of people walking their dogs. Clicks. They are lighting their cigarettes right now, staring at the dogs.

She never needed one. She never had the courage to take the responsibility; that was what she told others. The truth was that, she was simply unable to love a dog. Let the hell bother with it. Having children isn’t easy either; but a child, well a child is different.

She stuck her feet out from underneath the blanket slowly, she still had socks on one of them. Since her childhood, she has always had cold-feet, so she was already used to it. She was told that it was caused by her low blood-pressure. When her daughter was born, and they checked it it between two expulsive contractions, even at that time it was only 120/80. The doctor laughingly told her that “you will never pass away from having a stroke”.

The coffee machine wasn’t prepared. Still drowsy, with half-closed eyes, she moved around in the kitchen carefully, as if another person was still in the apartment. When He was still here, she used to tiptoe to the kitchen every morning to prepare her coffee, not to disturb his sleep. He always came home at night, of course, he was a musician, “what is fun for other is a job for me”, that was what he used to say, quite often—

She put the sugar and milk in it, quite a lot to be honest, stirred it, then she slipped on her grey winter coat and stepped out to the balcony. She never smoked inside the house. Somewhere, deep inside she was proud of herself, of the fact the she had enough strength to keep away from smoking inside, she always went outside even during the coldest days of winter; though the smell of cigarette still stuck to her clothes, but she didn’t want to give up on this. She loved these cold, lonesome mornings, when she was gazing at the trees and let out the smoke slowly, taking her time, making it as long as she desired it to be. Her feet were cold, so she was milling around a bit, but she endured it, luckily at least one of them had a sock on.

Translated by Miriam Ekiudoko


Az óra , mint mindig, most is nyers hirtelenséggel törte meg a csendet. Félálomban volt,
mégis kellemetlen volt a hangja, hát lenyomta, bár legszívesebben lelökte volna a szekrény párkányáról. Öttizenöt – gondolta – , még van egy negyedórám.
Fülelt, próbálta visszaálmodni magát, de ilyenkor már sosem engedték a neszek, hallatszott a szomszéd autó ajtócsapódása, a kutyások léptei. Kattanások. Most gyújtanak rá, nézik a kutyákat.
Neki sose lehetett. Sose merte vállalni a felelősséget, mondta másoknak. Igazából egyszerűen csak képtelen volt szeretni egy kutyát. Vesződjön a fene vele. Pedig a gyerek se egyszerű, de a gyerek, az más.
Lassan dugta ki a lábát a paplan alól, az egyiken még rajta volt a zokni. Gyerekkora óta fázott a lába, megszokta, azt mondták, biztos az alacsony vérnyomás az oka. Amikor a lánya született, és két tolófájás között megmérték, akkor is csak 120/80 volt. Nevetve mondta az orvos, hogy maga se fog agyvérzésben meghalni.
A kávéfőző nem volt bekészítve. Álmatagon, félig lehunyt szemmel, óvatosan mozgott a
konyhában, mintha más is lett volna még a lakásban. Amikor még Ő is itt volt, reggelente lábujjhegyen ment ki kávét főzni, nehogy felzavarja. Mindig éjszaka jött haza, na persze, zenész, ami másnak szórakozás, az nekem munka, mondogatta sokszor—
Beletette a cukrot, tejet, jó sokat, megkavargatta, aztán belebújt a szürke télikabátba és kiment az erkélyre. Soha nem gyújtott rá a lakásban. Valahol büszke volt rá belül, hogy megállja, a leghidegebb télben is mindig kiment, pedig így is megmaradt a cigarettaszag a ruháján, de erről nem akart lemondani. Szerette ezeket a hideg, magányos reggeleket, nézte a fákat, lassan, hosszan fújta ki a füstöt. A lába fázott, hát toporgott egy kicsit, de tűrte, még jó, hogy az egyiken rajta volt a zokni.

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