Member-only story
Powder and Feathers: Chapter Fifty-Five
Mam. Aimé sees his mother, and they have a conversation.
It seems to Aimé Deverell that there is very little point to life, except for what pleasures can be enjoyed before the grave.
That philosophy shatters like glass when he meets Jean-Pierre, an angel.
AIMÉ
Aimé’s apartment was empty of everything but the landline, sitting on the floor beside the wall. The floors were swept clean, all the kitchen cupboards slightly ajar to show there was nothing inside them, the shelves empty. The place felt of lemon polish and bleach.
When the phone started ringing, Aimé knew who it was, and he leaned and picked the phone up off the cradle.
He listened to the sniffling, quiet sobs on the other end of the line for a few moments before he broke the quiet with, “Mam?”
“Aimé,” she said wetly. What fell next out of her mouth was messy and drunk — it was a Sunday, just before one, and he was guessing she’d been to breakfast with some of her friends. Evidently the time for juice cleanses had passed, and now it was time to go back to bottomless brunch.
She started to talk, and it washed over him without his taking in the specifics of it —…
