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Kind Of Blue

The boys were playing Flamenco Sketches, in the background and she was looking up at me from underneath that red hat of hers. Her eyes were the same colour as the smoke coming off my cigarette. We were sitting near the back, at one of the tables and not in the office.
She never wanted to go back in there.
"I don't know what you want from me, Ellie," I shook my head at her.
"More than this, Addley, more than this." Her gloved hand waved in the air, stopping on the boys. "My Daddy says I cannot come here anymore. He says niggers are good for nothing, except drinking and smoking their lives away...and that is all I see when i am here."
"This is all I have ever wanted," I swept my hand around to show her what she had shown me. I stopped on the boys too and we both watched them play for a minute, before I spoke again. "You're a big girl now, Ellie. You're 18. You don't got to listen to your Daddy any more."
"I thought I was all you ever wanted?" Her blonde curls bounced, as she took her eyes away from the stage, to flash them at me.
"Baby," I said, "I don't recall ever saying that."

Comments

mig bardsley said…
Queenie, this is so good. I find it deeply satisfying reading your stories because you say so much, so economically. I come back to them again and again and always find something new...like looking into a cut and polished stone and finding new light and colours every time.
Thursday, 20 April 2006 at 19:44:00 GMT-4
Queenie said…
Economically.
:D
I love it.
Thank you!
Sunday, 23 April 2006 at 00:54:00 GMT-4
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