Monday, 6 February 2017

the indelible stain



This is where the tomato sauce that fell off the balcony was. It looks so much like a sperm swimming away from an egg that if I hadn't seen how it got there I would not believe that it could've happened by accident. The black thing is the front tyre of my bike, which I must remember to put some air in before tomorrow.

One early morning ride to work some time ago (maybe about eight months ago, judging by what I remember of the weather) I was working my way up a street in Carlton and I saw a stylishly dressed woman on the footpath, walking a dog. As we got nearer we smiled politely at each other, as one does. Then I realised I knew her. It was the ob/gyn who had treated me for infertility between 2007 and 2011. She didn't recognise me, that was obvious. I watched her go inside the sort of terrace house that looks ordinary from the street and then you catch a glimpse of something large and angular and shiny jutting out from the roofline at the back. I had hated her so deeply that it was strange to realise that I didn't hate her any more, just felt neutral, with maybe a little bit of gratitude. At some point then, I'd moved on. It would be good to know how that might have come to pass, because then I could attempt to replicate the process in other situations.

I even thought for a moment that if she'd stayed on the street a little longer I could have thanked her. Only for a moment, though. I haven't seen her since.

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