Swallows
The swallows cruised the sky. They flew over the eight storey buildings across the road, made bold dives down to Funky Lane looking for food but they left the trashcans alone. They were both picky and shy but they covered the neighbourhood with acrobatic moves at high speed.
These little birds used to fly around and land on the tin roof or the palmtree between the two buildings and watch me like they were expecting a treat while they were pretending to look any other way. I threw pieces of baguette to them which they picked up and flew up to the water tanks on their side.
There was only a two metre gap between the two houses so I measured I could easily jump from my balcony over to the roof next door in case of a fire or some other danger which I couldn’t imagine what it might be because this was a friendly neighbourhood on Funky Lane with hotels, small shops, restaurants and a few bars. It was a great location, close to everything in every direction so some days I didn’t even bother walking down to Sok San Road. It was a comfortable life, I loved the space and I was only joking when I said I sometimes wished I had a tuk tuk to take me from the kitchen to the bedroom.
The swallows came back, but there was no more white bread so I gave them dark bread which they rejected with what looked like a frown. Now one of the most courageous ones, whom I had named Tinkerbell, was standing on the balcony railing staring into the living room, cautiously and demanding so I put out a bowl of water but they never drank any of it with me watching hidden behind the curtains. It was like they could sense my presence and they probably had a name for me too - The Lurker.
It was a balcony big enough for three people sitting comfortably around the round glass table and the sliding doors led to a spacious living room connected with the kitchen area. I was staying here by myself and there were two bedrooms, two bathrooms with showers and three aircons. I was using the bedroom with two single beds as a walk-in closet or when people stayed overnight after a little party with beer and music and backgammon. There was some dancing too, well I took a few steps after each win but I couldn’t get the moondance to swing properly.
Now Gerry said, “Where’s your phone?” I handed it to him and he shouted, “Fuck off, CIA!”
“What the …?”
He laughed and gave it back to me, “Just in case”. Now he is the DJ while I am playing backgammon with Zarah. Gerry has been playing the techno from different festivals around Europe but now he chooses some Creedence Clearwater Revival. Have You Ever Seen The Rain? It was like an omen.
“You two have been playing for hours - when’s my turn?”
Sarah says, “Soon, I just need to win this one.” She looks at me jokingly but full of determination - “This time I’m gonna crush you! I’m gonna run you over.”
All of a sudden there was thunder and rain and Funky Lane would turn into a river as always but Gerry went out to buy more beers and the moment he walked out the lights went out and the whole neighbourhood was dark like tar.
Zarah and I continued playing the game using my camera for light. She said,
“I’m thinking of going back to Sweden for a couple of weeks to see the parents. In September.”
“The direct flights might be more expensive if there still is a war going on.”
“I don't care, they are paying.” She threw a double six, “Hahaha, I got you now.”
Gerry walked in. “Bloody hell, what a fucking nightmare!”
All of a sudden all the lights came back on. Gerry put beers on the table and said, “Is it my turn to play now?”
We drank beer, played backgammon laughing at the ideas we came up with, fueled by the brew, making sudden turns and jumps between topics - the music that was playing, the English humour with examples from Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, Tommy Cooper and Benny Hill, physics that science yet had to discover and what the hell was really going on with the world of today?
We were happily flying high above the rooftops with the sometimes confusing societies far below us, temporarily free from the boundaries that keep people chained to the ground.
Like the swallows outside the balcony.
