Memories of Tomorrow (Original, English Version)

8 - Oliver Taylor

This is a new side of her I haven’t seen before. Well, we’ve only known each other for three days, so that wasn’t saying a lot.

“I have one last question before we part ways tonight.” I followed her inside her room, but instead of going to bed, she went straight to the balcony. She put the bottle on the mini-table and sat on one of the chairs.

“Ask away.” She’s still doing it in a sing-song.

“Why Lee Smith?” When her friend told me her name, I truly thought that she was only joking. You’re a woman, but Lee? I can understand Smith, but it’s the common surname for John Smith. Jane Doe. That kind of thing.

“I vaguely remember people calling me Lee. A name that starts with Lee, actually. But I can’t remember the whole name.” Her cheeks are pink but it wasn’t that cold outside. The wind is blowing nicely. I saw her inhaling the air deeply, eyes closed.

“It’s nice out here, no? I like this room. I’m not sure when I can afford a room like this. Thank you for the experience.” She bowed her head at me, eyes still closed. When she sat up properly, she drank another full glass of champagne. I frowned. Did I really give her a non-alcoholic one?

I sat down on the other chair and turned the bottle around to look for the “no alcohol” label.

“Ah, shit.” It was a 5% alcoholic drink.

“Sorry, but this one is alcoholic.” I took the bottle and put it away on the corner of the balcony.

“It was nice.”

“Should I take you to the hospital? Won’t you get rashes?” I was suddenly concerned for her. But it seems she’s not listening. Her eyes suddenly misted. She started punching herself on the chest. Tears rolled down her face.

“I get this feeling… that it was so sad and lonely.” She started sobbing and I held her close. She gripped me close and cried on my chest. I started stroking her hair, comforting her. Is it her memories again?

“What do you remember?”

“An empty house.” She stopped her sobbing, but tears continued to roll down her cheeks. “I shouldn’t drink.” She set her glass down on the table. “It’s associated with being sad and lonely and empty. Not good.” She shook her head before slumping onto my chest. Was she asleep?