Friday, February 02, 2018

Elizabeth Flock

One night, after one of these songs ended, I found myself writing a story about our story’s end. I wrote it on an empty envelope that had been addressed to us as I sat by our records and the map on the wall. As I was cutting a pizza, I wondered idly who would get the pizza slicer. I thought about how I would make eggs only for one. As I wrote, I felt as if I were on the outside looking in, making a decision without being a part of it. Being on the inside would have hurt too much.

I kept remembering how he brushed his hair back and blinked at the same time. For some reason, this tiny movement is what I loved about him most.

- Elizabeth Flock, is the author of The Heart Is a Shifting Sea: Love and Marriage in Mumbai

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