The clay court was emitting all the heat it could. It never usually mattered that much. That day it was making a difference.
Why?
I was alone.
Everywhere I looked reminded me of those days. It looked so incomplete.
The wind was blowing, and I could hear our voices. Those days of chasing pups, missing rounds, forehands, backhands, services and volleys.
The doubles matches.
Giving our "autographs" on the attendance register.
The never-ending water breaks.
The patent walk to Upper Crust to eat.
That last court is a graveyard.
Perfect friendship lies there, supposedly in peace.
Walking on the red clay I can feel the memories surging through me. It's as if they're there, lying dormant, waiting for one of us to come by so it can fall back. Even the memories need us to go on.
The net, that bench, the trees, the boundary lines......everything remembers us.
We were all that they ever wanted. All that they ever had.
Everything on that court became a part of us and we became a part of them. There was this sparkle when 4 of us were there. Its as if the surroundings would wait for wednesday afternoons to come so that they could all come alive.
I can't get myself to play there alone. Even if people are there, its not US.
It's stupid not to let go.
But somehow, this is one thing that I just can't let go of.
I guess everyone has something they had to let go of.
Once upon a time, I did lose myself. And I can't tell u how good that felt.
But then a reality check told me that magic is nothing but an illusion.
So here I am. Back.
But I keep going there.
Maybe someday that magic could hit me and we could live it..........one last time.
5 comments:
Fourth court,hmm, from the snaps i have heard about this fabled "playground", i must say it was witness to a diverse array of feelings(i dont wish to elaborate on these feeligs o dont force me to!). Fourth court, it remains, u have grown up i believe, maybe some other tiger lily is discovering the joys of the court...
Fourth court, are there still some things left u can throw apart from the memories of the past...???????
Loved the line-
"That last court is a graveyard.
Perfect friendship lies there, supposedly in peace."
Very poetic, its dual meanings stand out in this sea of literature we are facing every day.
I could go on and on about these two lines, but hey!, u r the writer, i am the critic!
im not forcing u to do anything.
i didnt even force u to write them all.
no, i am the same tiger lily you know who in your words is "discovering the joys of the court..."
i don't need to throw away anything.
actually, i don't want to throw away anything.
A hazy walk back to the past, the fresh smell of dew on sleeping memories.I too feel the pull the clay, I yearn to feel it under my feet. I want more than anything the bubble it created, because wednesday afternoons 3:30 to 5:30 were distinctl unreal like one of Plath's poems...transitive you couldn't tell if it was real or not. You are right about the memory bit, no matter how much memory hurts we always want to cling on to it, relive it in our heads becuse I believe ultimately in the final analysis we are afraid of reliving something, that we treasure, in real life because the only place it can exist in perfect isolation is in the memory and that is why memory is such a powerful tool both for despair and insanity.......
A hazy walk back to the past, the fresh smell of dew on sleeping memories.I too feel the pull the clay, I yearn to feel it under my feet. I want more than anything the bubble it created, because wednesday afternoons 3:30 to 5:30 were distinctl unreal like one of Plath's poems...transitive you couldn't tell if it was real or not. You are right about the memory bit, no matter how much memory hurts we always want to cling on to it, relive it in our heads becuse I believe ultimately in the final analysis we are afraid of reliving something, that we treasure, in real life because the only place it can exist in perfect isolation is in the memory and that is why memory is such a powerful tool both for despair and insanity.......
yea. we don't want it back.
sweeter the memories, way more painful is the reality.
but we had fun.
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