Body Language
Just a regular Monday
“I really shouldn’t need to keep telling you this”.
His voice is haughty and severe, the sound of it penetrating my skin as though my entire body is listening. My breath is caught somewhere between ex- and inhale, my words have gone into hiding and my tongue is a limp piece of tissue in my mouth. I wince at the tightness in my stomach. It doesn’t matter what I say anyway, it only fuels the rant. The murmur of his voice penetrates through hazy thoughts.
“…tiring having to repeat myself all the time. You’re lucky no one’s around, they’d think you were daft”.
My throat constricts painfully, my words seem stuck there. I swallow, pushing them down into oblivion where they drown in unshed tears.
The pavement underneath his feet is cracked and worn, little green plants shooting out of the cracks. My heart jumps at the sight of these tiny delicate things, growing in impossible circumstances, their minuscule roots grappling stone-cold pavement, teasing nourishment out of rain and dirt.
His voice vibrates in my bones. Judging by the way his feet are turned, he’s probably not even looking at me. I steal a glance up. He has his side to me, head held high, looking down his nose at the world, not paying me any mind. I’m not sure he’ll notice if I walk away right now. I wonder how far I’ll get.
I watch his jaw and mouth working, the soundwaves of his words merely vibrations on my eardrums. He’s let his hair grow too long. It’s pooling around his ears. If I tell him, he’ll go off on another rant about how he can never please me or something about reverse feminism. Better not then.
I used to find him beautiful, but now nothing is pleasing about him. My arms cross in front of me and I’m back to looking at the pavement. If our eyes meet, I’ll have to say something. He turns at the same moment.
“Seriously, what is wrong with you? You never say anything anymore! You used to be this vibrant beautiful vixen! You used to challenge me! Now you’re just dull and grey and quiet. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it. I wonder if anyone ever will”.
My jaw clenches impossibly hard, making my teeth creak. Can teeth break from clenching? My stomach tightens unbearably from his burning gaze on the top of my head. He’s waiting for an answer, a reaction. The tension grows between us, settling in my stomach, pulled tighter with every second. Just breathe, don’t bait him, stay quiet.
As if I’d have any words to give, even if I opened my mouth.
The sound of the bus nearing interrupts the stand-off and the relief that floods me almost kicks the legs from under me. At least he’ll stay quiet in there. An audience always dampens his gusto. Except if it’s empty. Please don’t be empty.
As the bus rolls to a stop, a head of hair in the window makes my stomach unclench and I draw in an endless breath. As the door opens right in front of me, I hurry in without a preamble, taking a seat right behind the girl. He follows me reluctantly, eyes intent on meeting mine, his body language saying everything his silence is hiding. I sit and stare out my window, at the world moving past us, intent on not taking the bait.
“I wonder if anyone ever will.”
This piece was inspired by the sight of a young man and woman at a bus stop. The woman’s body language triggered me severely. Albeit, I don’t know what was going on between them, this is what I imagined.
Copyright T. H. Cleemann, 2023.
