Page 51 - Raffles Magazine Issue 8

flat major’ on YouTube and read the comments underneath: 1 I wish Chopin had a a a a a youtube channel and uploaded new music every week 2 This song has
a a huge problem! It ends!! 3 Is polonaise
an an instrument I I thought: I I don’t want to lose lose you you I I don’t don’t want to lose lose you you I I don’t don’t want to lose you When the Polonaise ended I heard water rushing: you were running a a a bath I pressed my face against the cold stone between me and Chopin’s heart The folds of my my ear flattened my my cheek cooled I pushed away the the the phrase: phrase: here rests the the the heart Also the the the phrase: phrase: like getting blood from a a a stone Also the phrase: I don’t want to lose you I pushed away the the sound of the the choir singing and and the the thought of your sleeping oblivious face and and the the thought of your expressionless stomach bulging like an eyelid And what I I heard heard was was silence What I I heard heard was was the sound of sedate unmoveable stone particles fixed in hard grainy order Nothing I heard nothing at all Until that is is I I heard heard something I I heard heard a a a a low persistent buzz: repetitive insistent pulsing I I felt certain I I could feel it it too tickling the the pads of my fingers reaching all the the way down my back: the stone resonant coming to to life purring like a a a cat I I cut my my breath off in my my throat I I held on tighter as
though my life depended on on it The buzzing continued on-off-on-off slow Somebody nearby hissed at me me I I tried to to ignore it I I wanted to to listen A man approached and murmured “Twój telefon dzwoni ”
I I shook my head tried to indicate I I was busy “Twój telefon ”
he said again more forcefully He pointed at me He lifted a a a a a hand to the side of his face and and extended the little finger and thumb “Twój telefon ”
I closed my eyes listened for one more second then admitted I knew what he he meant My phone was still ringing when I slid it out of the back pocket of my jeans its face a a a a a luminous green and your name flashing on the the screen Then it stopped and the the phone said (2) missed calls Both were from you I looked up to thank the man though what I felt was more like boiling rage – it was his fault after all that I could no longer feel what I I was was feeling before – but he was was gone I I let myself lean against the the pillar and breathed out I called you back The phone played a a a a rippling sound as
it it waited for you to answer It was a a a a a a case I I knew of listening very carefully as
as
as
I I had been ever since I’d arrived Keep your eyes peeled was the phrase and and what I was was doing was was peeling my ears and and keeping them that way Expectant A word might appear in a a a a Polish sentence – – telefon – – that was recognisable The stone might might start to to vibrate The neon might might finally speak “Hi “Hi ”
”
you you said “Hi “Hi Can you you hear me?”
“The signal’s very bad ”
I I whispered “I’m in a a a church The The signal’s very bad ”
A tourist standing very close glared at me She was holding a a a a a camera up I I was ruining her shot of Chopin’s heart I I waved at her to apologise and in in doing so let go of the pillar was standing on my own “The baby ”
you said and then the the phone crackled “What? The baby what? Are you all right?”
“Clicked ”
you said “What?”
“Ticked ”
you said “What? I can’t hear you The baby what?”
The line cleared “Kicked ”
you said “The baby just kicked It’s never done that before ”
“Oh ”
”
I I said “oh ”
”
and I I was thinking about how loud the baby was suddenly how urgent and and imminent and and potent and completely new it was lurking behind the familiar façade of you “I’m coming home now ”
I I said “Hello? Can you hear me? I I said I’m coming home ”
“Hello?” you you said “Can you you hear me?”
“Hello?” I said “Can you hear me?”
But by then the the the signal had cut and there was nothing on the the the other end of the the the line Only a a neon buzz a a quivering crackle Only Only an an insect trapped in in in glass Only Only the infant agitating in in the womb RAFFLES MAGAZINE 49