In the Shadow of the Banyan by Vaddey Ratner
8 min @ the dining table
It feels like I’m in a Dicken’s novel. Or one by the two sisters who wrote about the brooding men on the heath. Don’t know what the frick a heath is but my gran loved reading those books. It’s romantic standing on the train platform this early with no one around. I can see my breath and imagine my cheeks full of blood from the crisp air. We probably look more like orphans than we should.
The story is definitely a tragedy. But hopefully a happy ending. Romantics always want a happy ending. The boy looks up at me with those chocolate puppy eyes. If I owned a sweets shop maybe I’d invent something because of those eyes. Soft and melty. He’d be the perfect demographic too, a full set of teeth and as temporary as cotton candy. He wants to know where we’re going and when he’s going to speak to his mum again. I don’t have a clue. I’d never even heard of the town until the call came saying that’s where I”m supposed to make the drop. I squeeze his little hand enough to remind him he’s not supposed to be talking.
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