Untold Stories of Mont d'Est

- The Green Shopping Bag

I know he never wanted to hurt me...

This morning he had those remorseful eyes of a 5 year old child who knows that he did something wrong. He made me coffee, the way I like it, with a little piece of chocolate in it. He prepared my cereals too. I didn't speak, I was just staring into my plate...Strangely, I was the one ashamed.

He told me I look wonderful this morning. He never misses to tell a compliment. But this time, I could not smile. I tried to swallow a sip of coffee...but the sadness was crushing my throat.

I felt like running, crying, shouting...but like in a nightmare, the disappointment turned me into stone. So I was just standing there, staring at him for a minute...keys jingling in my hands.

It seemed that there was nothing more to say.

"I don't know you.." I said

I didn't wait for a reaction. I grabbed my shopping bag. It was heavier than ever. Filled with regret and anger.

I slowly walked to the station...grey skies over my head, silent tears in my eyes. The kind that just sneaks out from under your eyelids

The train stops...

In the reflection of the windows I realize how strange I might look wearing sunglasses on a rainy day.

It will heal.

It always does.

I know he didn't want to hurt me

He never does

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- The Trench Coat

I was searching for my beige trench coat this morning. I couldn't find anything in the mess she made.

Since she arrived, her stuff was everywhere. SHE was everywhere.

"We cannot live like this" I was ranting again while running around in her room to find my clothes. I keep saying the same thing every morning, but she doesn't care.

She just turned around in her bed and pulled the pillow over her head. Again.

I wanted to shout, I really can't take this anymore.

But I have to. She's my sister, she's everything to me. Even if it seems I am invisible to her.

I feel sorry for her. She feels sorry for herself more.

I prepared her coffee, the way she likes it. One spoon of sugar, lot of milk.

I pulled away the curtains in her room. Raindrops were chasing each-other on the window. No-one wins. Ever.

This will be another gloomy day in Paris. She could not care less. Me neither.

I won't catch my train.

I finally found my coat is in the toilet. Hanging on the tab of my bathrobe.

It was kind of funny, but I was unable to smile. I felt sadness. No, worse: pity.

I arrived to the station when the 8:15 train was leaving the platform...

So now I wait.

The next train

The next rain

The next day

As long as it takes.

We will both make it.

The 8:30 train stops, I will certainly be late.

This coat is not warm enough for this rainy day...