Short Story: The Bird

Short Story: The Bird

She does not exist anymore. He wants to get back. He wants to get back because she does not exist anymore. My husband. My love. Seven years ago I met him in Makarska, in Dalmatia. At the seaside. On the beach near Hotel 'Meteor'. He said that I'm lovely. Lovely girl from Sarajevo. And I really was, just like an little cloud. Small. Slim. Blonde. Like a porcelan figure. We fell in love. The sea was waving around us, and I was wearing small blue bikini. We got married very soon. You are my everything, Sheyla, he said. You are my everything.

Nina was born a year later. You suffered rubeola in pregnancy, the doctor said. Easy sickness, almost imperceptible. But it leaves serious consequences to the fetus. Green hospital floor took me in its arms.

I will love her, I said when I woke up.

I will love her, We will love her, won't we, won't we, won't we..? He said nothing.

Nina was blind. Nina was deaf. Nina spoke by screaming and by fluttering of tiny hands. Like a bird. Like a small feckless bird. I love you, Nina, I was whispering while I was taking her in my arms and puting her always in the same bed. The world grew around Nina. Nina stayed small.

He decided to go. He whispered it into his palms, placed over the face like a veil. I came to him and, tore that veil, made of expensive men's skin. Go then, I said quietly. Thank you, Sheyla, he said. Keyring in the shape of green teddy bear was swinging long after he closed the door.

Nina and I stayed alone. She and I. Brush and canvas. I painted. In all techniques. Watercolor, pastels, oil on canvas. I earned the most with portraits. We lived solidly. I painted the bird a month after Nina's death. The canvas was cold and white and her hands in that morning. As her eyes in every morning of her life.

He came. I did not expect him. The bird was hung in the hallway. Opposite the entrance door. I am sorry, he said. I am sorry for everything, Sheyla. His luggage was small. Light green. Same colour as my face.

New life? New child?, luggage in his dark men's hand offered it. Men's hand. Support. In good times. In bad times.

Get out ! I cried.

Get out ! bird on the wall cried.

Keyring in the shape of green teddy bear was swinging long after I slammed the door.