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since the recent news of il pittore's reveal, things have been difficult for me. security was strengthened in every public place and i couldn't return to the 'pissarro gardens' anymore. to fulfil my thirst for nature and the outdoors, i opted to walk every morning along a country route i had even pleased myself in finding.
the route itself was well-trodden and littered with memorial benches to rest at every so often. today, the weather was biting and i shivered in my thick black coat, clasping my hands together and blowing on them to keep them warm. as i emerge from the thicket of trees, once bursting with green but have been stripped bare by the harsh weather, a country house juts out from the landscape of fields. it's large and imposing against the muted greens and it looks about as old as time itself.
i've seen it before many times along this route but something about the way the sun light battled to keep it warm intrigued me today and i dared to venture closer. unsure of whether it was a part of the private property, a large oak tree blocked my path like the guardian of the estate; i could tell that during the summer when the leaves erupted from the twisted branches it'd be a force to be reckoned with.
i draw closer still, spotting something swaying in the cold breeze on one of the lower branches. i come to a pause about three feet away from it and i'm surprised to see a battered pair of dress shoes looped over the wood by the mottled laces tied into a messy bow. the shoes themselves look worn and tired but a part of me believes they've been tied only recently. a bunch of blackened roses rest at the roots of the mighty oak.
"good morning." a cheerful voice breaks me out of my daydream and i step back, gaze flickering up to meet the smiling eyes of a boy not much older than myself. he's dressed warmly in a cream fuzzy coat and bundled to the heavens in a blue scarf and thick gloves that were clasped around a fresh bouquet of roses. the first thing that enticed me to him was his slanted eyes that disappeared with his determined smile and the pure warmth that radiated off of him.
"i never see anyone out this early," he comments, eyes dragging over my sombre appearance. i smile kindly and shrug.
"i like to walk first thing. how come those shoes are tied their?" i motion towards the shoes and his smile drops a fraction as he remembers why he was out in the first place. he kneels down, not caring about the snow that wet the denim of his jeans, swapping out the dead flowers and brushing away the fallen petals. from here i could see a plaque with a name that i couldn't read.
"they're for my friend."
"what happened?" i ask softly. unexpectedly, the boy seems more than willing to talk about his departed friend.
"he drowned. people say it was murder but i knew he was struggling for a while so i don't know if i believe the others. i read somewhere that you toss the person's shoes over a high place because when the spirit returns they'll be able to walk closer to heaven."
drowned?
"i'm sorry for your loss." in reality, no emotion stirred inside me, yet i thought it would be an appropriate thing to say. the boy beside me sniffles and laughs to ease the sadness that had overcome him. a particularly strong gust of wind tears through my hair and gnaws at my skin and the boy shivers beside me.
"i'm sorry for telling you all this, i'll let you walk!" he kneels down again, this time sitting cross-legged in front of the plaque with his head in his hands. from where i stand i can see the darkening patches of his denim slowly consume his legs but he doesn't seem to care as he reads over the plaque again and again.
"what was his name?"
"mingyu. kim mingyu."
i fight down the cough that rises in my throat, letting out a strangled hum; mingyu wasted no time in making new friends whilst i was in the states.
with his back to me and blinded by the loss of his friend, he couldn't see me start to unwind my own burberry scarf, pulling it tight before coming up behind him in one swift motion.
"i'm sure you'll be reunited with mingyu very soon."
