by Eoghan Ryan

Her name was Rüya.  An unusual name and so I would ask.

Just a dream, she would say, a dream in my mother's tongue. 

And your Mother, did she give you that? 

No, it was my father, a long time ago. 

It is quiet small I suppose. 


Easier than carrying a big one? 


Ruya was small too, appropriate that she be so.  Silent, she would make no sense any other way.  Can I help you, to carry it I mean? 

No, thank you.

It would be no trouble, such a little thing, to carry it, for a while at least. 

No, thank you, it's mine to carry. 

Share the load, a nice thing to do.  Her smile was fleeting, her gaze lowered. 

I should go now. 

Why a drawer, I must ask? 

I was too loud, cried too much, you know. 

I see…  Not really…  Wait, please explain? 

I would be quiet then. 


In there. 

For how long? 

You like questions. 

Yes, I'm sorry. 

I don't know.  I just carry it.

No, inside I mean, how long would he put you in there? 

Oh, I don't know, time is different in the dark. 

And, your Mother? 

Oh, she carries something else. 

My questions stopped and Rüya went.

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