Chloé invited me to her house for tea. Chloé’s living room was too spacious,
which surprised me. No-one would say that, given the typical structure of
Bruges houses. She invited me to sit on the sofa while she prepared our tea.
Before I could do so, something on her wall caught my eye. A round wall
sconce filled with lustrous leaves in shades of gold and pink transported me
back to the day we walked by the river. Small piles were forming from the
fallen leaves of the trees. You picked up a few and lightly blew them away,
causing them to fall gently onto your red scarf that was round my neck. You
lent it to me because of the autumn chill that was beginning to be felt more
and more, especially down by the river. That scarf is still in the back of my
wardrobe but I haven’t had the courage to wear it again. As an impulse, I
jumped into one of the small piles of leaves along the riverbank. You noticed
my embarrassment and did the same as me. For seconds, I was back to being
the happy, enthusiastic child for the red season that I once was. You seized the
moment and recited a line from Casablanca.
“We’ll always have Bruges,” you told me. Just as Rick and Ilsa will always
have Paris. Little did you know that this was one of my favourite films.
I hear Chloé’s sweet voice approaching the room and I immediately take my
hand away from the leaves that made up her wall sconce. I gently bring it to
my face and realise that I’ve involuntarily dropped a tear. I thank Chloé for
the hot cup of tea, take a small sip and put it down on the side table in front of
me. I’d like to be my old self again. But I’m still trying to find it.
