Hold on to the Sun by Michal Govrin & Judith G. Miller

Author:Michal Govrin & Judith G. Miller [Govrin, Michal & Miller, Judith G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Writing
ISBN: 155861673X
Publisher: Feminist Press at CUNY
Published: 2010-11-02T04:00:00+00:00

EVENING RIDE

She was leaving the house when twilight had already begun. The faint blue light of the setting sun filled the yard. A sudden break in the clouds cast shadows despite the lateness of the hour. In truth, she didn’t really know how late it was. Since coming to the house she had gradually lost the habit of looking at her watch, and in the end she’d taken it off to protect it from the mop water and never put it on again.These days only the slowly changing light of the north country, almost forgotten during all these years, told her the time. Now, too, without knowing why, she suddenly left the house, dropping her work in the middle, as if compelled by the sun—which had emerged after a rainy summer day—to go out into the setting light.

She had to bend down under the wooden staircase in order to unlock the bicycle. Crouching behind the seat, her fingers groped for the lock. Many alien movements had erased from her hands the old habit of releasing the iron bolt in one easy motion.

From the neighbor’s yard came the sound of raindrops, slipping from the bushes onto the paving stones of the garden. The smell of wet grass, too, and of cold. In their big bay window the table lamps were already glowing. But the soft light, framed by window plants and curtain edges, didn’t pour out to join the radiance of the twilight. There was no one to be seen in the illuminated living room, nor in the garden, nor in the street into which she led the bicycle, both hands guiding the handlebars over the wild bushes which had grown up in the yard.

The movement of riding carried her swiftly through the streets of the little town. No one noticed her hushed passage past the lit windows. Her body swayed with the deep movements of turning the pedals. For a moment she forgot the thinness of her limbs, the illness. The wind beat against the nape of her neck and made her sparse hair fly. She abandoned herself entirely to the effort of keeping her balance.

Without paying attention she passed the last houses of the little town, already crossing the stretch of birch trees and lawns leading to the woods.

Suddenly she had an intense desire to look down and see the swans sailing on the lake below. She pedaled up the road, and a vague anxiety took hold of her.Who could guarantee that the swans were still sailing on the lake? After all that had passed.Who could guarantee that the lake was still there at the bottom of the slope?

But her fears were groundless. The artificial lake was there, and a few grey swans, too, were floating on the shallow water of its bed. The water looked almost black, perhaps because of the clouds, which had again begun to cover the already grey sky.

Next to the lake was a café. She rode past the hedge enclosing it. Painted iron tables stood on the lawn.

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