Tie the history down. Me and little Kenny running in the dewy fields under the crackle of electricity pylons. Tie the family down. Aunts and uncles filling up my grandfather’s little sitting room with their cigarette smoke. Tie the present down. Me and my lonesome workplace banter and the nights drinking and looking at girls with Johnno and the crew. Tie the romance down. How something came to nothing so soon and she’s better off in any case. Tie the future down. The plans I make daily and the bucket list I email to myself. None of it is real.
Can you see it? asked James. Corrina was squinting into the May sunlight.
It was somewhere over there but I can’t make it out exactly.
But the cottage was around here?
Here? Somewhere over there, near the horizon, past the trees, where it’s all blue with the distance and haze.
We could drive around the lake, James suggested, placing an arm round her shoulder. She shook her head:
We’d get lost. I just can’t remember. I can’t remember the room even. Or him. What he really did. I was so young. We drove off. I promised to forget. It’s just…