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Saturday, June 22, 2013

Love could make you fly or accidentally fallout of a window but then what is the difference?

Dedicated to all weird, sublime, god-forbidden, insane and unexplicable relationships...

PART 1: Alexander and Isabelle

Alexander, a pale and tall man dressed in black is staring at old pictures of strangers lying on a table at the vintage market in Brick Lane. The market is indoors, crowded with little stalls selling clothes, antiques and anything odd, suspicious and beautifully useless. Alexander is observing every single photograph with obvious curiosity maybe even fascination. 
The owner of the stall, an old man wearing a top hat and round sunglasses, notices him, comes closer and says:  ‘Magnificent isn’t it?’
‘What is?’ asks Alexander without raising his head.
‘The endless stories pictures offer you.... They always make me wonder and keep me curious. What were the lives of all these people like? ’ says melodically the seller.
‘Well, the lives of strangers are always more interesting than the ones of people you know. I’ll take all of them.’ Alexander raises his head and looks at the seller.
‘All of them?’ asks the seller looking puzzled at Alexander’s now serious blue eyes. ‘Yes. Every single one of them.’
‘Very well Sir.....Alexander?’
Alexander smiles widely at him. ‘Well, well Bartholomew.... I must say you look better and better as you grow older.’ They both hug briefly.
‘How is Miss Isabelle? I’ve heard about what happened... I’m so sorry’ the salesman says with a concerned voice.
Alexander nods at him and his face seems to be worried. He sighs. ‘Well you know her.... she has her own way of dealing with things and death and snowflakes... anything really.’
‘Send my kindest regards please, will you?’
Alexander nods again and leaves the market walking towards Shoreditch when suddenly his phone rings. He picks up. ‘She’s gone again...’ says Benicio.
‘How? ’ There is a silence on the other line.
‘Benicio... how did she get out?’ Alexander asks slowly with an icy voice.
‘She jumped out of the window. She’s fine though. I heard the noise and saw her running down the street. You know it wasn’t that high....’ Benicio explains nervously and his voice is filled with guilt.
Benicio doesn’t finish his sentence because Alexander hangs up on him. Alexander fastens his pace and stops a taxi passing by. ‘Tower Hamlets Cemetery.’
‘Someone died, Sir?’ the driver asa with concern.
‘I wish...’ whispers Alexander.

The cemetery is empty. It’s a cloudy, rainy day. It’s a beautiful, sad and old place with sculptures of angels covered with moss. Some of the gravestones are destroyed and broken. Isabelle is lying on a big grave facing a statue resembling sleeping young girl. Isabelle lies there with her eyes closed. She is in her lingerie, barefoot and wet. Alexander walks towards her, takes her into his arms and carries her away.

Isabelle sleeps in her room. She’s covered with her flowery duvet and Alexander is sitting close to her bed. She wakes up, looks at him and smiles.
‘I was hoping you would be the first person I see when I wake up.’ Her voice sounds lively.
‘Liar!’ He looks at her angrily.
‘Alexander... please don’t be angry with me! Please, please!’ she suddenly climbs into his lap and cuddles him.
‘I just.....have no idea what to do with you... Isa, you jumped out of a window...’
She smiles gently: ‘I thought I could catch a star or lie on the clouds.’
‘Why were you at the cemetery?’ he asks with a tired voice.
‘Well...apparently everything ends in those kinds of places.’
‘Things end where you want them to end...’ he caresses her long, red hair.
‘I’ve been there the whole day, wandering around, reading what is written on the grave stones. I even made friends with a fox!’
‘Well done!’
‘The guide who was working there asked me why I was there for so long. I said it was my birthday.’
‘Isa...it’s not your birthday.’
‘Are you sure? It feels like I was born today. Well basically he said wow and that he could give me a tour for free. And I said wow too and he showed me the grave of a doctor who performed the autopsies of Jack Ripper’s victims. How beautifully insane is that?!’
‘Would you really want to spend your birthday at the graveyard?’ He looks at her questioningly.
‘Hmm I guess so. Or maybe on the moon?’
‘Next year.’
They smile and sit silently for a long time. Suddenly Alexander looks at her face and whispers. ‘I know why you went there. You were looking for him...’ Isabelle turns her face away.
‘You know he’s gone and that you are here. That’s all what matters.’
‘I know I just can’t help it sometimes. I just... don’t know how to make myself to do the right thing.’ Isabelle says with an exhausted voice.
‘You should have a rest.’ Alexander puts her to bed. He’s on his way out when she says. ‘I’m scared that one day you’ll be gone too because you get fed up with me, constantly having to take care of me and that you will fall in love with someone else...’
Alexander stands by the door, looking at her. Then he brings her the pile of photos he bought at the market. ‘Tomorrow we can wonder about their lives. There’s an endless amount of stories we can imagine. It could take us a life time.’

Isabelle smiles at him gently.

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