a slow unfurling
Lardo; London Fields
Went to a canalside restaurant, shivered under a heat lamp, made small talk with the girls one table over, kissed over a plate of crab agnolotti, said “cheers” with restaurant glasses, smeared sauce across my plate with reckless abandon, asked for the bill, walked the long way home with my hair smelling like some other table’s cigarette smoke; maybe this city is thawing again, maybe I can remember to be soft, maybe, maybe, maybe.
Walked toward London Fields bathed in the cotton-candy pink of an early spring sunset, met a friend (in person!) over pasta and merlot, compressed months’ worth of life into a three-hour conversation punctuated by the clinks of wine glasses, laughter everywhere - socially-distanced still but look, everywhere I turn - people are smiling. My hands hurt from the constant sanitizing, but god it feels so lovely to be able to slip past people (albeit really carefully) again.
Squeezed onto an outdoor pub bench with a very small group of people, said hi!! over and over again way too enthusiastically, asked everyone how they were: two friends are having a baby, one is working on a super cool project that is going to redefine the boundaries of 3D design, one just moved into his new place and is trying to sort out ridiculous furniture delivery timelines; which leaves us two, my cheek against the slope of his right shoulder, his hand over my knee, saying something like, yes the lockdown was so shit but also, we have been so lucky. So much has happened over the past few months — I got published, he got a bunch of art features, we wrote + illustrated a zine together, the wagon wheel of work grinds on, etc. Pandemic time has blurred everything into a haze, and I am better at remembering gratitude for these things on some days more so than others.
We stayed for ages, laughed too loud, got to pet a stranger’s terrier, had someone ask us for cigarettes, attempted to sing happy birthday when a girl two tables over emerged from the kitchen carrying a cake. A stranger’s face lit with the glow of birthday candles, them closing their eyes to make a wish. Saying cheers while sitting next to people I love. Picking out my favorite dishes from a pub menu. A London evening on the warmer side of spring, clear skies, unrainy. These are the things I want: a slow unfurling, life again.
