Nights Like This by Divya Sood

Author:Divya Sood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riverdale Avenue Books

Chapter Nineteen

I remember every day of our time in Philly. I remember writing every night about the most significant parts of my day and as days went on, there were more significant parts than not and my entries were longer and longer, scribbled in haste in the paisley journal that Vanessa had bought for me. I have gone months and then, looking back, have not remembered most of the time that has passed. But those days in Philly have become, for me, a carved and chiseled artifact of time to which I will always be beholden.

On our third day in Philly, we took the Sebring for a three-hour ride through the city, out of the city, through the suburbs and then turned right back around and drove another three hours. What I remember most about that day is the stretch of road and Vanessa singing Motown hits to make me laugh as we drove. She wore an orange tee shirt that day, her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses, her arms looking almost golden when kissed by the sun.

“What did you mean by what you wrote last night?” I asked her, pushing my hair back, fighting a wind that was trying so desperately to push my hair forward.

“What I wrote in the journal?”

“Where else?”

“Where else? Well, I wrote a love letter across your back.”

“You what?”

“While you were falling asleep and you asked me to make circles with my fingertips across your shoulders and back. I wrote you a love letter.”

“What did you write to me?” I asked.

“I guess tonight you’ll have to stay awake and figure out the words, Jess.”

“You plan on writing it again?”

“Every night, princess, until you learn all the words by heart.”

I didn’t understand how someone who was so raw had such moments of tenderness and surprise. I had a feeling that afternoon that I would never know Vanessa entirely and that at any given moment, she could flip her words, her tone, her gestures and she would surprise me with a new definition once again of who she was.

It was on our way back from our three hour tour to no island, Gilligan’s or otherwise, that Vanessa took me through the heart of Philly, found a small corner shop with a fruit stand and bought guavas. It wasn’t as if I didn’t know what a guava was. And it wasn’t that it was so rare to find one that I was astonished. It was just that through the taste and smell and feel of the fruit, I was tempted to think back to monsoon rains and guava filled afternoons when I had watched, patiently, the peeling of the fruit, the cutting of slivers, the salting and chili powdering of the flesh. I still remembered the taste of those guavas, raspy and sweet against my tongue.

But it had been years since my tongue had known the taste of a guava, the feel of round hard seeds that I enjoyed grinding into a thick paste in my mouth. I

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.