The Defining Line

7: Rest in Flames

I wake after Ove because the bed is empty as I sit up in the morning. I must have missed breakfast as well I can hear the women echoing down the stairs faintly returning the dishes into the kitchen from the meal to be washed for the next time they are to be used.

Ove is sitting in the living area with his father the next time I see him. They seem to speak of something important, like politics, but they only make as big of a difference as sitting in their chairs with a coffee can make, complaining that our society has flaws but they require no desire to get on their feet and make a difference.

"Hello Dear." Ove welcomes which surprises me, his terms of endearment usually are non existent. As soon as I am given permission to join their conversation and enter the room I can smell the faintest hint of smoke and I realize Ove's Father, Mr.Lyreborg is placing a rolled piece of white paper to his lips which glows against his silhouette infront of the open window.

"We were just speaking about the order of the Market Place weren't we father?" Ove smiles placing me on the arm rest of his chair.

"What's wrong with the market place?" I ask, but they both seem to act like the topic is not worth speaking about, but just seconds ago it was worth calling a meeting for the two of them before I walked into the room.

"A young man made a scene at the market place today, lit himself on fire." Mr.Lyreborg sipped his drink before taking a drag of his smoke like he didn't care for feel any feeling of loss for this man, he even spoke with the slightest bit of pride. But behind his cover I can see his throat swallowing hard, his pulse beating on his forehead casting a shadow whenever his turned his head against the sunlight, and his hands shaking when he raised his glass to drink from.

"What happened?" Without seeing I know my nose crinkles up in disgust.

"Some sort of protest." Mr.Lyreborg examines my expression not sure how to react to it. "Anyway he's not suffering anymore."

"That is so tragic, do you know the boy's name?"

"Kalle Alhborn, a young man, maybe about your age."

The name seems all to familiar to me, like an old childhood friend would sound, or how an old family member would ring in my ears and suddenly act like you have no clue who they are until they see you again and you can spend time together like old friends.

"Don't worry about it love, he was only an orange tag citizen." Ove rubs my back until he realizes what he has just said.

I give him a hard stare cold enough to make his blood curdle, that's my family, my people he speaks of, and we don't just go out killing ourselves to make a scene for no reason. He pauses once he realizes what he has said and tries to cover his tracks.

"I mean, he doesn't concern you, because it's not like your mother or anything." Ove scratches his head. "not related to you I mean."

"Ove I believe that deserves an apology." His father whispers to him.

"I'm sorry Astrid, I didn't mean to sound insensitive." he obeys his father with a slight bitterness before stepping out of his chair. "Astrid, you missed breakfast, I will prepare you a meal." He nods and walks out of the way of the chair I perch on. I quickly trail behind him until I hear the tenor sound of Mr.Lyreborg's voice call me back to the chair.

"Thank you for that." I smile the best I can knowing in he back of my mind he is thinking the exact same thing as his son, he nods back understanding my thanks.

"Well, don't get used to it, you remember you are a blue tag citizen now Astrid, nothing any less like the orange folk." His fingers fold in one another and I open my mouth to protest but I know it is useless. At the end of the day I will still be married to Ove and nothing will change that.