Delphine Gauthier-Georgakopoulos

Listen to Delphine read her story

Breathe in the chill winter air blowing through the window you left open for her spirit to be set free. Freedom. For you both. Your brain understands it. Your body welcomes it. But not your heart. Your heart is thumping in your ears, punching your ribcage, bleeding through your teardrops.

Light the candle you bought weeks ago—the white candle you got and felt guilty for buying too soon, but had to, so you could pretend to be in control of something. You hate that candle now, but since you lit it, you can’t just blow it. It would feel wrong. Step away slowly, let the bloody thing run its course.

Put the kettle on to make the cup of green tea with lemon and cinnamon she drank every morning. Let the cinnamon—you’re mildly allergic to—wet your cheeks. Sob out loud. Pour the whole thing in the sink because she’s not here to drink that shit. Make yourself the cup of coffee you crave.

Blank out the last few years, the months that felt like decades of caring and cleaning and feeding and… Remember her before; her laughter, her smile, but not her pain, not her shouts, not her insults. Picture her happy and silly; dancing and pretend-singing to lyrics she didn’t know, hugging a tree trunk, being too loud, too lively, too alive.

Rummage in her wardrobe through the collection of cardboard boxes she filled with photographs. Rummage until you find the one she taped closed and thought she’d hidden well. The one you found years ago, but never dared to open. Take your time opening it now. Have another coffee, or a drink, or go for a walk, or go to sleep.

Cut the tape with her antique, rusty hobby knife. Don’t let your tears smudge the old photographs.

Step away for a minute to breathe before you get to know a woman who was once your world, your everything. The woman who was once young, who smiled and laughed in black and white and wore skirts so short you gasp at her hypocrisy. The woman kissing a man who is not your father, but looks weirdly familiar. The woman you knew nothing about. 

Delphine Gauthier-Georgakopoulos is a Pushcart-nominee Breton writer, teacher, mother, nature and music lover, foodie, dreamer. She is a contributor to Poverty House, co-founder of The Pride Roars, and the EIC of Raw Lit. Her debut historical novel Laundry Day was a Novel Fair 2024 Runner-up. She lives in Athens, Greece. https://delphinegg.weebly.com/

Read more from Delphine:

Bull – ‘Surrounded by Idiots‘
Epistemic Literary – ‘Cadavre Exquis‘