She was shorter than I remember, her head was wider and her hair more unkempt but it was her alright walking down the street towards me with three books in a plastic bag, a Katoomba jacket slung over her left arm and an expensive handbag hanging off her right. We waited an age to be served at the cafe, she was staring uneasily at the dazed wandering waiter and flinching at noises, people and cars. She said its too busy here, like New York and the people are odd, like New York, you wouldn't live here if you knew about pollution. I told her I like it here but she glanced sideways and told me there's brown cloud above this town, she sees it every time she comes down from the mountains.
I gave her her birthday card, with the promise of a present inside. She gave me three books in a plastic bag, all signed by the authors and made out to me then she told me the curse had been lifted. I didn't know there was a curse so this came as something of a shock. I did know that she obsessed with dying by the age of fifty nine years and three weeks. No woman in her family, in my family, has lived past the age of fifty nine years and three weeks. I figured I was immune to to the age limit because on my father's side they all live forever but now she's telling there was some kind of curse.
Her sister, my aunt, is now fifty nine years and three and a half weeks old, this is all the evidence she needed to declare the curse lifted. She's shorter than I remembered or maybe I'm just walking a little taller but whatever the reason I think I know why someone would curse us. It all comes down to what Gemma called my 'fuck you vulnerability', truth is its not mine, it belongs to all of us, my shorter than I remember mother, my aunt, my long dead grandmother. It makes us unbearable, to ourselves.
I gave her her birthday card, with the promise of a present inside. She gave me three books in a plastic bag, all signed by the authors and made out to me then she told me the curse had been lifted. I didn't know there was a curse so this came as something of a shock. I did know that she obsessed with dying by the age of fifty nine years and three weeks. No woman in her family, in my family, has lived past the age of fifty nine years and three weeks. I figured I was immune to to the age limit because on my father's side they all live forever but now she's telling there was some kind of curse.
Her sister, my aunt, is now fifty nine years and three and a half weeks old, this is all the evidence she needed to declare the curse lifted. She's shorter than I remembered or maybe I'm just walking a little taller but whatever the reason I think I know why someone would curse us. It all comes down to what Gemma called my 'fuck you vulnerability', truth is its not mine, it belongs to all of us, my shorter than I remember mother, my aunt, my long dead grandmother. It makes us unbearable, to ourselves.
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