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Seagull

Gillian Tregidgo

    On one of those idyllic days, whilst I was completing my fourth length, I noticed a large seagull soaring above me. It was breathtaking to watch its body arc over the pool. Its underbelly and wings tinged azure by the water’s reflection, eventually tipping to skim the lightly dappled water below. Mesmerized by its shape, I cupped my hands over my eyes to follow its flightpath. It flew upwards, and then appeared to float in front of the neighboring building casting a dark shadow across the window. The sun had momentarily gone behind a cloud. I shivered and as I watched, I noticed two figures moving in the apartment behind the bird’s image. The sun, once more partially blocking my view, created shapes, blanked out by the low morning light. I returned to my lengths, a fluttering feeling in my belly tugging at my senses.
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    As the summer cooled, I watched the window where the figures had moved. I noticed two women. One, tall and slim. Long red hair. ‘A Klimt girl.’ The dark-haired woman was shorter, but also lithe. I tried not to stare as they embraced and kissed. Eventually I got up and closed the blinds.
    After the first week of fall I told my husband Josh about them. We were having our Friday evening ritual. We would order food, drink wine, catch up.
    ‘What do you mean, you couldn’t look away? Why don’t you just move your desk?’
    I was lost as how to respond.
    As the weeks brought the full onset of autumn, I still hadn’t moved my desk. When I talked to Josh about it again, he was less amused. Preoccupied with his work load in a technology department at a nearby hospital.
    When we spoke of it again he said, “Pull down the blinds and stop looking!” The compulsion was too strong.... I opened the blinds again!
    The apartment now seemed empty. My heart sank. Watching their lovemaking had fueled something inside me. I felt a pang of loss and sadness at their apparent absence.
    January drew in with its icy morning chills. I lifted the blinds one day and exclaimed. There was someone there! The figure looked like the shorter dark-haired woman, but her shape had completely changed. Fully clothed and much heavier, she sat on a chair by the window and ate. She ate a lot.
    I told Josh about it over breakfast one morning.
    “I think maybe the Klimt girl has left the other woman. Comfort eating, you know?”
    Josh shook his head. “I thought you were done with all this.”
    In early March, another woman appeared. No longer the ‘Klimt’ girl. While the dark-haired girl had grown larger, the Klimt girl had visibly shrunk and was bald. They had not fallen out. They were now usually fully clothed, always affectionate, but there was no more sex.
    Friday night Josh came in, his face was ashen.
    “You’re never going to believe what happened today. I fixed an assistive device – one for people who can’t speak. I don’t know what prompted me to open it ... it was a living will.” He fumbled in his jacket, pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper and read it.
    “In the event that I succumb to any illness that stops me from making any decisions about my health, I request that my designate help me take my own life.
     “It’s very personal. None of my business. I was asked to return the device and it turns out it’s the apartment across the street!”
    We both stood and looked out the window. The women were looking at each other lovingly. It was dusk, and a magenta glow suffused their bodies. A seagull flew over the water dipping the tips of it wings in the pool. I followed its trajectory across their window, as it skimmed the cool water below.

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