Anything you wish, Jellyfish.

The many floral printed blouses are what her contemporaries are wearing in this age. Some vibrant, others more staid, but surely they are the same small blooms on the cooling fabric. As she lifts her umbrella from the stand and bids farewell to us, we happen to peer out of the window to see that the weather is perfect. She is going to the shops today to her sell off her remaining pieces of jade. This same jade that is going to be melted down to more modern pieces for modern housewives. But this jaded housewife takes her time with her motions. The slow abandonment takes the flurry of the morning crowd by surprise and the red sea parts for her.

The outing has been a tad too strenuous for her. She rails at me to put the clothes out to sun; to bring the clothes in lest it rains; to stop the rain from falling- Loose soft skin that hangs in unlikely fashion is far removed from the supple and lithe form of our sun-kissed youth. No massage can bring back its tone. But every touch sends warmth coursing down her veins, that tugs the edges of her mouth, like tugging the sun from behind the clouds. We feel impatient at her helplessness, intensified by our own helplessness.

Her intensity of gaze on me is disconcerting but I know that I’m mere form without features. It's like the television she watches. But that volume she can at least regulate. She calls me loudly to find the direction and distance of my voice, only to pick up the hint of my irritation. This is the same heartbeat that bounces from the walls in echo, “Anything you wish, Jellyfish.”

We miss you, rest in peace. 06/03/2006