run while you can

Too much in my mind.

Under a bridge, uncertain. Icheon, South Korea. Spring 2011.

Avigail strode with purpose, looking at the ground, seeing nothing, deaf to sound.
The houseboat was near, landlocked as always, swallowed by grey thickets of honeysuckle. This beached vessel was a home; a family lived here, was living here. The brother was not long gone; the same could be said of the father.
The daughter, Avigail, let out a silvery blue sigh, the likes of which Herschel had recently employed.

The cafeteria was empty spare the two of them. The cafeteria was seldom anything but empty.
They ordered ‘two.’ Specifying this or that food was not an option: two persons received two meals; one person, one meal. The math was simple enough. Still, on occasion two persons ate one meal, or one person didn’t eat.
The food came on metal trays. Each tray was dinged and tarnished into a dull, albeit unique subject. The subjects, supping daily from these trays, were dinged and tarnished into dull, albeit alive creatures.
Herschel dipped a spoon into his soup, twirling it. If there had been more than one ingredient in the soup, the twirl might have enhanced the flavor. But, at length, only grey beef bopped in the broth.
“You can watch the recording if you like.”
“…Why would I want to do that?” Avigail responded after a long, intentional pause.
“I just thought… you’d…” Herschel stopped.
“…need proof?”
“People ought to prefer it that way: concrete.”
“Is that so? Because christ, if I want proof, I look outside,” Avigail turned toward the counter.
“Don’t.”
“Why not? I’m finished.”
“Well… I’m not.”
“Oh, so… I wait?”
“People…” Herschel sighed, “wait.”
“Ah… People. Wait.”
“Besides, I’ve been waiting for you this whole time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Please… I can see through your shit. You’re wearing the mask of a schemer, not a mourner.”
Avigail twisted in her seat. She squirmed as if to admit: Yes, I have plans.
“So there. What is it? You trust me?”
A brief tremor passed through Avigail’s body. She had been considering what she was about to say for quite some time…
“I’ve seen her,” she started. “I mean, I’ve been there… twice now… to that dead end place. I’ve decided that I can’t let it happen this way. I don’t care about… damn what people ought to do… this for me…”
Avigail redirected her stare.
“You need my help… is that it?”
“…” Avigail swallowed. She had not touched her food.

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