Abu and Tara

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Abu slept tucked under the bedcovers. Even in that position, Tara could see how very tall and very thin he was. His head, shaved thirty years before at the first signs of baldness, was too large for his body. His small rounded eyeglasses had left indentations on his nose and face. He had aged gracefully. The loose skin on his face wrinkled only slightly at the edges of his face muscles. The few liver spots on his head looked like artfully placed, as if planned to give Abu a more regal and wise appearance. Abu was thirty years Tara’s senior, and she did not care. She studied Abu as he slept and counted his breaths, which seemed shallower than she remembered.

Tara had watched the thin lines of morning appear framing the three windows. It had been a long night for Tara. Today, she would accompany Abu to his doctor’s appointment. Her stomach groaned at the thought of the appointment, and Abu’s eyes opened.

“How long have you been up, dear?” Abu said with no sleep in his voice.

“Just a bit. It looks to be a beautiful day.”