The heavy rain drums on the roof of the car, filling the space where a barrage of words has dissipated into the close air. They sit beside one another, separated by a handbrake, feeling the rumble on the glass and the dull pressure of their own pulses radiating across the interior, compacting the air. Each stares into the bleary refraction of the world outside, splattering and running downwards in dribbles.
The argument, like most arguments, isn’t a disagreement on the destination, but of the path chosen. It stands to reason that when two people are so closely tied, any disharmony of movement causes friction. It is a strange irony that people struggle so hard to make each other happy that they end up in such bitter opposition, though their ends are the same. Means are the dainty lynchpin to this arrangement.
A little time has passed now. A little time and a little reflection. Fear does a good job of blinding the mind but letting the heart run wild. And though fear can sink in its claws and latch on tight, there are particular certainties upon which it can find no purchase. When they are ready, the people open the doors and walk out into the rain, together.
Paddy Dobson
26th August 2020