Hello, Again

Early evening, exactly 6pm. She knew this because she glanced at her phone. The clock tower behind her struck. Six, strong chimes, each more confident than the last. Then, finally, peace and quiet. The park resumed its normal, slow pace of life.

She sat rigidly on the bench. She had no idea why she was even here. It was habit, she thought. At 6pm, every day for the last ten years, she would come to this exact bench, wait for the clock tower to ring, and then pour coffee into two plastic mugs, from a flask she’d brought with her.

It seemed pointless now. Why pour two cups of coffee when she was the only person sat here? It seemed pointless and yet it was what she had done, every day, for the last ten years. She couldn’t break the cycle, not just yet.

Her grip was strong around the metal flask, as she carefully poured the coffee, equally into the two mugs. Placing the second cup on the ground, she wrapped her hand around the first and brought it to her lips to sip.

“Ouch!” She cried. “Still hot!”

“Of Course, it’s still hot! You’ve only just poured it a second ago!” She mimicked the voice of her friend.

This friend, let’s call her Milly, judged her harshly. Let’s call the woman that sits alone on the bench, Lizzy.

“How is life treating you?” Milly asks, her voice squeaker than she sounded in real life.

Lizzy shrugged. “It could be better I suppose.”

Milly sipped her coffee. Reality shows that Lizzy is drinking two mugs of coffee alternating which one she sips next.

“What’s new with you? Done anything exciting this week?” Milly continued.

One sip of coffee and Lizzy answers herself.

“You know, a bit of this, a bit of that. What have you been doing this week?”

Here is a bitter silence. The breeze howls above her. The two trees that sit directly between her have started to lose their leaves. Autumn is finally on its way.

“You know I can’t answer that.” Milly replies.

“I know.” Lizzy says. “Just wishful thinking.”

“What can we do to make you feel better.” Milly said.

Lizzy pauses and watches a bus full of people stepping off, walking in the direction of their homes. There are businesspeople in shirts and ties, carrying heavy briefcases around with them. Their phones are glued to their thumbs.

“You know what would make me feel better.”

Milly sighs. “That is something I can’t do I’m afraid.”

Lizzy shakes her head. She knows this, it is her that is telling herself this after all, and yet she wishes there was hope. She basks in the evening glow; It’s warmth on her face.

“Something else perhaps? Something small?” Milly says with the faintest of squeaks.

Lizzy lets the wind wash over her, as though it is blowing away her insecurities. The last of the work commuters have gone now, back home to their families for evening meals.

“I’d like to jump into a pile of leaves.” Lizzy says with gusto. “I’d like to relive my childhood.”

Molly’s smile grew. She follows her as she jumped up from the bench, arms outstretched ready for Lizzy to grab. “That, I can do.”

Early September and yet the burnt leaves fall. They float around, then land in giant piles on the grass, like little colour pockets. Lizzy doesn’t hesitate and jumps. Her shoes may be ruined and yet she doesn’t care one bit. For the first time in days, she feels normal. She glances back at Milly. Her face is obscured by the sunset setting over the trees.

“Lizzy?” Milly asks as they jump in unison. “Are you happy now?”

Of course, she is asking herself this question. How does she feel now it has happened? She nods quietly to herself, and forgets what she was thinking, it would only make her dwell on the past.

“I’m glad that you’re happy.” Milly says unconvinced. Her smile has turned narrower while Lizzy dismisses her thoughts.

“Let’s just enjoy ourselves, shall we?”

They jump higher than they had when they were children, probably now because their legs are much longer. Yellows, browns, and oranges fly into the sky, hurtling at speed, drowning them in a colourful cocktail of Fall fun. Her smile could burst at any moment because of how large it was growing. Being a child in this moment reminded her how carefree she once was, back when there were two of them, really two of them.

Lizzy came to a halt, pausing in a pile of trampled leaves. “It was over.” She thought. Everything she knew had gone.

“What’s the matter? Why have you stopped?” Milly voice echoed.

Lizzy sighed and watched the sun-drenched face of Milly, staring at her innocently.

“It is time to stop the fun.” She told her simply, shrugging.

“You looked so happy.” Milly told her.

She shook her head defiantly. “It may have seemed that way, and for the moment, perhaps I was, but it’s time to face the facts.”

“What are these facts?”

“That I am alone now, you are no longer with me and that’s okay.”

Everywhere was still, as if the Earth understood her. The image of Milly faded away. Her eyes, her smiling face, all faded into obscurity. In her place the wind whistled, as if conveying a message for her only, a message only she could hear.

It was simple. Lizzy watched the leaves dance in unison. It was time to accept that she wasn’t coming back, this version of her, this conversation, never existed.

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you.” Lizzy spoke aloud, barely a whisper.

“It doesn’t have to be a goodbye.” She heard a voice say. It wasn’t her own talking back this time; she could have sworn it was really Milly’s voice, speaking from beyond.

“I get that.” she replied. “I know it will be difficult, especially at 6pm everyday…”

There was no answer, just the swirling breeze. The last of the birds were settling down to sleep, it was getting late, too late to stay sitting on a park bench in the middle of the night. Lizzy needed to move on.

She stood up, brushed the excess dust from her clothes and sighed deeply. She knew she was always inside of her, to talk to if she needed to.

Milly’s funeral was just a few days away and Lizzy would be ready. She would cry, say her goodbyes in the way she knew how, although deep inside her, she knew Milly would always be available to talk when Lizzy felt lonely or frightened. She could just hear her inside herself and she knew everything would be okay, eventually.