Ahorita
When you are sick in Indonesia, I amuse myself with words that have no English translation: now, right now, in a little bit, maybe later, maybe tomorrow, maybe never. You eat plain crackers
and I open a beer with my belt buckle. When I was young my father used to say he wished
he could be ill for me. Your mother put wet towels in the freezer and placed them on your
collarbones. I put you to bed, sniff your hair (ligneous, sawdust). Depeche Mode is playing
too loud at the bar on Monkey Forest Road. In the morning you are not well enough for
breakfast. I eat pandan crepes and read about Bahasa grammar. The adjective is mentioned first,
then the noun: scooter red, man yelling, woman beautiful. I buy you charcoal tablets; you don’t
take them; you are okay. In the afternoon, you swim to me because there is nobody around. You
misspeak and call him Bruce Springfield. Tell me what it means when I only have patience for
you.
Every day, it storms at half-past five, and we run to the balcony for the light show.
Lucy Robin is a writer and bookseller based on stolen Boon Wurrung land. You can find their work forthcoming or published in Island, Voiceworks, Archer, Baby Teeth, #Enby Life, and Farrago, where they were a nonfiction subeditor. In 2022, they were chosen to read at The Wheeler Centre’s ‘The Next Big Thing: Known Unknowns’ showcase. Most recently, their work was shortlisted for the Kill Your Darlings Creative Non-Fiction Essay Prize.
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