I'm a bit nervous about this one, since it is the first story in English I publish here.
First there was that boring Monday afternoon in February when a sketchy drawing was brought to paper, then a homework in English to continue Jesminder's story in "Bend it like Beckham" and my friend's request to send her the product, and at last a quiet Friday evening when the story behind the picture came to my mind and was written down within half an hour. (I don't mention here the sheer endless process of correcting and rewriting in the following weeks.)
Credits: Nyarna for pushing me, Lisa, Franzi, my mother and Catherine for pointing out and eliminating errors in language and drawing. And Gurinder Chadha and Narinder Dhami for film and book! Characters are not mine.
Errors: find them and show them to me, but be kind, please.
Have fun!
Christina
Never sleeping
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Jules was never sleeping.
No matter how strenuous a day was, she never got tired.
Jess could not understand that, people had to rest sometimes, didn't they?
… never sleeping …
Well, of course, that was exaggerated, you could not take it literally; Jules had, in fact, a day-night-rhythm like everybody else, but her sleep was different.
They say one looks relaxed, that all the lines in your face grow softer, but Jules looked as agitated as ever. She did not seem to take a break from the day's adventures but played them backward and forward and backward again, as if she had missed something at first sight.
Jules was not collecting memories like Jess' mother did, she simply had to repeat life in her dreams, for she seemed to have only a little time for living and thus the need to intensify it as an exchange for a future where she would spend her days in a square house with a perfectly square husband and maybe not yet so square children.
Jess could not let that happen, so she planned to make Jules tired, so tired that she had to give up watching memory-TV.
She wanted to ensure that she would lead an intense life, without square houses and husbands and children.
The question was how.
Football was not an option, they both were used to it by now.
She considered going to a club, but they did that every Friday evening, so this was not an option either.
In the end she bought chicken and rice and cooked for the two of them.
They talked and talked and talked, about their football training, about Jules' first date, about Jess' letters to London, and the evening was enfolding them in a blanket of feeling home.
When Jess started to have difficulties to keep her eyes open, and when Jules started yawning widely, they went to bed, and finally, Jules was sleeping.
- finis -
Let's trade: a review for an orchid?