Gør en ting om dagen, der skræmmer dig…

Hvem end, der har sagt det, så vil vedkommende være svært tilfreds med mig. Siden vi flyttede til Toronto har jeg gjort mere end rigeligt for at dække mit skræmme-indtag for de næste to-tre år.

Jeg har skrevet til vildt fremmede mennesker og drukket kaffe med dem, jeg har spillet fodbold-kamp med og mod fremmede, jeg har sunget kareoke (Fugees: Killing me softly), fordi jeg ikke havde styr på hvor stærke mine drinks var. Jeg har været til Kunalini Yoga workshop med én, der lignte og lød som Christian Bale (den tykke version i fx. Vice) og mange andre udfordrende ting. Min udfordring er, at jeg er en introvert Pippi-Langstrømpe med lidt angst. Jeg tror jeg kan en hel masse, jeg VIL en hel masse, men jeg er super-sensitiv og nervøs for om folk kigger på mig og siger at mine strømper sidder forkert og mine fletninger er grimme.

I alt det nye, har det vist sig at mit skrivekursus har trykket aller hårdest på alarmknapperne. I sidste uge startede mit 8-ugers “Writing short fiction” kursus og i dag skulle vi levere vores første opgave på 400 ord. Hold nu kæft, hvor det er helt inde og pille ved det mest sarte og skrøbelige ved mig. At skrive fiktion that is.

Jeg blev nødt til at forestille mig, at jeg skrev for en anden for overhovedet at få ordene ned på papir. Men nu er de 400 ord sendt afsted og ved du hvad? Nu vil jeg gå skridtet videre og dele det med dig. Historien hedder: The key og præmisen for den var, at jeg skulle skrive om nogen, der finder en nøgle. Hvis du vælger at læse den, så send mig en kommentar. Jeg vil så gerne vide hvad du tænker. Og tænk ikke over mine følelser – jeg græder i gennemsnit 20 minutter om dagen alligevel.  Here goes:

THE KEY

“Come on – it’s not funny anymore. I really have to pee”.

”It’s not a joke – I can’t find it. I put it in this little inside pocket of my backpack… but it’s not here anymore. Could you please check your pockets?”

”You didn’t give me the key. Remember? You said that wouldn’t be safe?”

The lost key couldn’t be blamed for everything wrong with the trip. It was just one more thing on the list. In fact, the city was unrecognizable from when they were here the first time, five years ago.

Back then, the city had consumed them, and they had consumed it. The smell of the flowers, hanging from the balconies, and the taste of the many coffee con leches, which they had ordered without even realizing it, blended in perfectly with the smell and taste of each other.

The cab ride from the airport, which they had once spent kissing and giggling, had now turned into a discussion with the driver, who refused to open the window because it would mess with his air-condition.

“Could you please tell him that I’m car sick?”

“Can you try not to be so fragile all the time – we are there in five minutes.”

Once they had taken a quick tour of the air-bnb apartment, he grabbed her shoulders and said:

”Let’s just shower, head out and start over” and kissed her on the forehead as if there was a magic restart button there.

The tapas place, where they had once taken turns picking out tapas for each other and where he had made a heart out of the toothpicks, was closed. “We are at a wedding,” the handwritten note on the door said.

While he was checking Yelp for another place to go, she thought about their first night in the city. How they had found themselves in a bakery, while the night turned into morning. Her sequence dress and his butterfly were proof that they had been inhabitants of the night – refusing to let go. They had shared a warm chocolate croissant, and even the city’s tough housewives had given them a smile. The sight of the couple had taken them back to a time in their lives before deciding that their nights were only for sleeping.

“It’s like the city is telling us something.”

”Mm…

”I mean, it won’t let us in.”

”I … must have left it on the counter. Do you mind checking your bag one last time before I call Marco?”

While they crouched down on the ground taking out all items hoping that they had magically overlooked the key, another couple passed them laughing at something.

She was in her sequins dress. He had on his butterfly. Later that night, they would find a key and regard it as a sign of good luck.

”It’s the key to the city.” he would joke.