Sisters in Arms by Shida Bazyar (Translated by Ruth Martin)

Sisters in Arms by Shida Bazyar (Translated by Ruth Martin)

Author:Shida Bazyar (Translated by Ruth Martin)
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC071000, FIC102000, FIC044000, FIC076000, FIC051000
Publisher: Scribe Publications
Published: 2023-09-05T00:00:00+00:00


Lukas was sitting at one of the outdoor tables, looking at his phone. Because you have to look at something while you’re waiting for someone, I thought. Or because he urgently had to message someone, his new girlfriend, maybe. She might have just asked if she should make dinner for him this evening, I thought a second later, angrily, suddenly convinced that his new girlfriend always cooked amazing meals for him, and he could just enjoy her food without having to lift a finger, and both of them were happy with this arrangement. I was so sure about this that it made me hate her, the new girlfriend, even more than I did already.

I pulled the folding chair — a light one made of wood — back from the table quite forcefully so that I could sit down. I’d hoped jerking it like that would make some noise, but unfortunately it didn’t, and then I hoped that my disappointment over this wasn’t too obvious.

Lukas broke into a sudden smile. ‘Hello,’ he said a little too quickly, putting his phone down at once, as if he’d just been looking at some dodgy website. He hugged me across the little table, which as expected was not a particularly elegant manoeuvre.

I sat down, got my phone out, and placed it on the table beside his. I have no idea why — I mean, he already knew I had a phone — but maybe I wanted to put us on an equal footing from the start. Maybe that had secretly been my problem in this relationship. But there was no sense in going over old ground now, because by this point Lukas’s hormones were partying elsewhere.

We made a handsome pair, the two of us at that table, I was sure of it. The cafe dog, who was loitering outside the building with a mournful look on his face, immediately came and lay down in the shade of our table, like we were his family. A small, taciturn family.

‘Kasih, I’m so glad this worked out, us seeing one another — I mean, I really value it,’ said Lukas, and as he said the last half of the sentence, his face changed, like he’d suddenly remembered all the guilt he’d piled on himself by talking, laughing, messaging, and making eyes at the wonderful woman next door. Like he’d forgotten all that until a minute ago and only just recalled how much he should hate himself for it. For bumping into her in the university canteen and having lunch together, for going for a walk with her and — oh, how should I know exactly how it all started? Maybe his expression also changed because just then the putrid smell of the idyllic canal wafted over to us.

Lukas fell silent, and I looked calmly into his small, bright eyes, envying him once again for his naturally curling eyelashes, and making an effort not to look afflicted, but like a person enduring laryngeal cancer with dignity. There are



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