Fiction, Health and wellbeing, Melbourne, Relationship and marriage, Writing

Lisbeth’s Moment

Lisbeth almost missed the tram to work. She skipped the last few metres to the stop, humming a tune.

She hopped on board, touched her phone against the ticket machine and, walking towards a seat, paused to give way to an older gentleman.

‘Please, you take the seat,’ Lisbeth motioned with her hand.

‘Bless you. You’re an angel.’ His grey moustache wriggled over his top lip as he spoke.

She grabbed an overhead strap and swayed to and fro as the tram ambled its way down the main street. The tune still buzzed in her head. She chuckled silently, aware that only last week, she’d been in a deep despondency. But feelings were ephemeral. They ebbed and flowed like water lapping over river stones.

She dinged the bell for the tram to stop; its chime echoed through the cramped space on board. The sound uncovered a memory for Lisbeth.

Thoughts raced like a current as she disembarked. A car, which should have been patiently waiting for Lisbeth to safely arrive on the footpath, swept past her, almost crashing into her. Her head spun. Lisbeth not certain if it was the near miss, or the swirling tide of buried moments.

She dug around in the compartments of her soul. She could no longer play referee with her life. What she let through, what she disallowed. It struck her, perhaps that’s why she was so moody. At least that’s the word Fred had used, before he left in a rage with all his belongings stacked on the verandah. Back then, she’d ignored Fred. But it seemed he’d been right all along. Damn!

Still standing on the footpath, with passers-by rushing about, Lisbeth had an epiphany. She would begin again.

 

Photo by Weyne Yew on Unsplash
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