When Marie-Anne learned that he would be out of town for a week, at first she was relieved.
Since he had first entered her imagination as the most handsome and kindest of men some weeks ago, Marie-Anne began to see him everywhere. Once, she was biking to the studio and he was standing at the bus stop. Another time, she was on the bus and he was walking along the sidewalk, the sun bringing out the blond undertones of his hair. Marie-Anne remembers turning in her seat to watch him pull the tails of his plaid shirt flat against his thighs as he walked.
In one particular week, she saw him so often, she wondered if her brain was starting to play tricks on her. If perhaps he wasn’t there at all. That Marie-Anne was actually seeing an elderly woman with a stooped back, but her subsconscious was imposing his image like a new outfit on a paper doll. Tabs tucking behind shoulders and hips to cover the old woman’s body with an image of his own.
When it happened that she saw him twice in one day, Marie-Anne threw her hands up in the air and wondered if she hadn’t gone altogether mad.
So understandably, when she heard that he would be away for six days, she was very relieved indeed. For almost a whole week, Marie-Anne would be able to stroll through the streets of her city with total confidence.
But by the second day, she caught herself looking around for him. Marie-Anne even heard herself think, “Maybe he’s come home early!” As she sat down for tea in her local café that morning, she filled her time by scanning the faces of other patrons, looking for his nose among them or even just his glasses.
By day four, she began to wish that she was in fact suffering from some rare mind-altering disease that could transform the boring figures before her eyes into him. On day five, she began squinting at elderly ladies on the sidewalk, using every ounce of her powers to will his image to appear instead, but to no avail. She could only conclude that he had been real before, and simply ‘not here’ now.
When she woke up on the day of his return to Montreal, she was careful to comb her hair and wear lip gloss every time she left the house. Even though she did not see him that first day, Marie-Anne was not disheartened, reckoning that he must be very busy at home opening six days worth of mail and watering his many plants.
Of course! She realised that it would take a day or two before he started appearing again and tried not to feel impatient, but the longing grew large in her belly. While daydreaming over lunch one sunny afternoon, Marie-Anne posed the following question to herself, “How can it be that before I spent so much time not wanting to see him, and now I can’t think about anything else?”
And that’s when Marie-Anne knew that as much as she wanted to see him, secretly, she really wished that he would see her too. That he would look up from flattening his shirttails and see her on the bus, looking beautiful, even graceful. More than anything else, she wished that he could be seeing her everywhere. Picking tomatoes at the corner store. Taking the escalator deep into the metro station. Flicking her hair over her shoulder like a scarf.
But he was suddenly – inexplicably – no where to be seen.
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New fiction: Marie-Anne in the city
Since he had first entered her imagination as the most handsome and kindest of men some weeks ago, Marie-Anne began to see him everywhere. Once, she was biking to the studio and he was standing at the bus stop. Another time, she was on the bus and he was walking along the sidewalk, the sun bringing out the blond undertones of his hair. Marie-Anne remembers turning in her seat to watch him pull the tails of his plaid shirt flat against his thighs as he walked.
In one particular week, she saw him so often, she wondered if her brain was starting to play tricks on her. If perhaps he wasn’t there at all. That Marie-Anne was actually seeing an elderly woman with a stooped back, but her subsconscious was imposing his image like a new outfit on a paper doll. Tabs tucking behind shoulders and hips to cover the old woman’s body with an image of his own.
When it happened that she saw him twice in one day, Marie-Anne threw her hands up in the air and wondered if she hadn’t gone altogether mad.
So understandably, when she heard that he would be away for six days, she was very relieved indeed. For almost a whole week, Marie-Anne would be able to stroll through the streets of her city with total confidence.
But by the second day, she caught herself looking around for him. Marie-Anne even heard herself think, “Maybe he’s come home early!” As she sat down for tea in her local café that morning, she filled her time by scanning the faces of other patrons, looking for his nose among them or even just his glasses.
When she woke up on the day of his return to Montreal, she was careful to comb her hair and wear lip gloss every time she left the house. Even though she did not see him that first day, Marie-Anne was not disheartened, reckoning that he must be very busy at home opening six days worth of mail and watering his many plants.
Of course! She realised that it would take a day or two before he started appearing again and tried not to feel impatient, but the longing grew large in her belly. While daydreaming over lunch one sunny afternoon, Marie-Anne posed the following question to herself, “How can it be that before I spent so much time not wanting to see him, and now I can’t think about anything else?”
And that’s when Marie-Anne knew that as much as she wanted to see him, secretly, she really wished that he would see her too. That he would look up from flattening his shirttails and see her on the bus, looking beautiful, even graceful. More than anything else, she wished that he could be seeing her everywhere. Picking tomatoes at the corner store. Taking the escalator deep into the metro station. Flicking her hair over her shoulder like a scarf.
But he was suddenly – inexplicably – no where to be seen.