Young Writers Society

The overwhelming smell of coffee filled Claire's nostrils. She leant back in her chair and exhaled loudly.

"Claire?"

"Claire? Are you alright?"

Claire blinked and looked at her two friends, Geraldine and Sacha, "What?"

Sacha looked worried, "Did anything happen between you and Eric? You seem out of it."

At this, Geraldine smiled. "Hey," she said, "if anything happens between you and Eric, tell me. I'll be happy to have him."

Claire rolled her eyes as Sacha glared at Geraldine. She closed her eyes. The bistro was filled with regulars that day. It was the busiest shop in this part of town. She could hear the conversations of others and the air-conditioning blowing. She breathed in the smell of strong coffee. She felt at peace here. It was her favourite place in the whole world. This was the place where she was first introduced to Eric. By George. Claire sighed. It seemed that everywhere she went in town always brought back memories. She started thinking about George, the way he always acted when he was nervous, his voice, his gentle touch... Claire shook her head violently. She didn't want to remember, but still... She had loved him once. Long ago.

She opened her eyes to see Geraldine and Sacha staring at her. Claire laughed, "Sorry. I thought I heard a fly."

Geraldine looked at her watch, "We'd better leave now. Lunch hour's almost over."

The three of them left the bistro in a hurry. They walked back to their office. "Hey Claire, how do you think Carl will react if we're late?" asked Sacha. Carl was their new boss.

Claire puffed up her chest, "Did you know that time is money? How irresponsible can you be? At this rate, you're going to cause the company a loss!" She had tried her best to say it in Carl's gruff voice. The other two laughed.

"Well, money is precious."

Claire gasped. She stopped in her tracks and turned around. Nobody. This part of town wasn't exactly popular with people. It was where all the old shops were. Claire looked around. She could've sworn she'd heard George's voice. She turned to her left and saw a furniture shop.

Before they got married, George always dragged her around this part of town. It was where they bought most of their furniture. George would always go into every furniture shop he saw, trying to find the best buys. Every cent made a difference, he had said.

Claire quickly ran after her friends. Why today? Why were all the memories flowing back today? She reached her friends who gave her weird looks. She laughed, "Come on. Let's hurry."

~~~~~~~

Home sweet home. Claire locked her door and threw her key on the table. She went into the living room and lay down on the sofa. Work was really tiring with Carl around. He was a slave-driver.

Claire sighed and looked at the ceiling. She felt a sudden chill run down her spine. In a hurry, she turned over to face the television. She grabbed the remote control and switched on the television. The news was on.

The news report was about the Myanmar cyclone. Suffering. That's all Claire saw on the television. She uttered a cry when she saw a child screaming for his mother. A tear came rolling down her cheek. She could feel their suffering. Mother seperated from child. Lovers seperated. It reminded her of George. How many times did that happen today? Lots of times.

For example, her office suddenly reminded her of the times when George used to send flowers to her office just to woo her. Only today. On other days, it never did that. Why today? And after that dream.

Claire changed the news channel. The news was reporting about the earthquake in China. Shit. More suffering. Claire squirmed as she saw a woman who had her leg amputated just to get her out of the rubble. She had her leg cut off without anesthesia. Claire could imagine the pain the woman was feeling. There was a picture of dead children, buried under what used to be a school. The pictures made her feel sick.

She turned off the television. "Damn you George," she muttered. She curled herself into a ball and started to cry. She wanted to blame him. It was all his fault. Her day had been horrible thanks to him. The earthquake and cyclone were not his fault. she knew that. However, she blamed him. Everyone's suffering was his fault. Eric's especially. He was making Eric's life a living hell beyond the grave.

Claire heard a key opening the door. Eric was back. At eight, just as he had said. Claire cried more. She hadn't come home at the time George had asked her to. Eleven. And all because she was having sex with Eric. All because she had forgotten her responsibilities as a wife. And she'd had the guts to put all the blame on him. Why wouldn't George want revenge? She would, if she was put in his shoes. She sobbed. Why? Why did she do what she did?

Eric came into the living room in a hurry, "Claire?"

She sobbed louder in reply. Eric rushed over to Claire, "What happened?"

Claire shook her head when he touched her. "Go away," she managed to mutter, "please."

Eric heard that and got up, hurt. "Al... Alright. I'll go make some coffee for you." He walked out of the room.

Claire sobbed harder. She felt horrible. She felt guilty. And she felt sick.

She slowly got off the sofa and headed for the kitchen where Eric was. She hugged him from behind, crying. "Sorry... I'm so sorry..."

Eric turned around and his eyes turned soft, "Oh Claire..."

As Eric held her close, she cried. She let it all out. Eric was here for her. She was loved.

And the past was the past.