Simple Distortion

Chapter 1 - Simple Distortion

We walked down street after street together, her leading me left, then right, then left again.

We passed a man selling fresh bread from a stall, he smiled at us, like most human men did, and called out, "Bella giornata per una passeggiata, non è vero?" I translated this mans' Italian in my head: Lovely day for a walk, isn't it?

"Yes, truly beautiful," I replied to the stall man in Italian. We walked on and turned onto a new street, and into the light of the sun. I was blinded for a second, but, putting my hand up to shade my eyes, I could see the street in front of us.

It was old, and paved. The upward incline of the road was steep. The houses all leveled flat, propped up by bricks and beams of wood. All the roofs were orangey brown, all matching. The tree's surrounding the old city were knarled, the leaves a darker green than usual. They seemed to be olive tree's. The branches all entwined together, some of them like hands...

I could see Ellen's back, her white dress swaying as she carried on up the hill. I sighed and ran over the little stone bridge and up to join her half way up the paved road.

"Its lovely, isn't it?" Ellen looked back at me, the twinkle I had seen earlier was back in her eyes.

I laughed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man sat on the road. He was sat cross-legged on the paving stones. His hair was messy. His eyes were bright, I could tell, even though he was looking down at a large, old book in his lap. The red cover was faded and dirty. His clothes were warm, too warm for the Italian mid-day sun. He was obviously homeless. I hadn't seen anyone else like him in my time here, and I felt sorry for him. "Here," I realized I had spoken in English, and the man was Italian, and so translated it for him," Qui." I reached into my bag and pulled out my purse. I walked towards him. "Ti darò dei soldi," I'll give you some money.

"You... English?" The man looked up, and into my eyes. He seemed to be educated in the English language.

"Yes, I have some money for you," I reached into my purse and pulled out a handful of Euros and offered them to him, a few clattering down onto the pavement.

"You are serious?" He asked, eyeing up the money in my hand.

"Yes, yes, take it, please!" He stares at me, his disbelief clear, and then cupped his hands, and I poured the coins into them. “My name is Kiara,” .

“Lloyd,” He answered, putting his book and the coins I gave him onto the pavement beside him. He reached out to shake my hand. His hand was smooth, yet I could feel the flakes of dirt that were stuck to his palm. He pulled his hand out of mine.

"What you like?" He looked up, seeming to register my beauty for the first time.I wrinkled my forehead. He gave up on English and returned to Italian. "Cosa vorresti per il ritorno?"

"Return? I would like nothing, but it is very nice of you to offer me something," I smiled. He looked around for a second, and then beckoned me closer. I leaned in warily.

"I show you... La catena." He said the last bit in Italian. 'La catena', meant 'your chain'. I was confused.

"La mia catena?" My chain?

"Sì," he replied. Yes.

"Che vuoi dire?" I replied. What do you mean?

"Ognuno è legato a qualcun altro, ed è chiamato 'la catena'" Everyone is linked to someone else, and it is called 'your chain'.

"Keira!" I was drawn back from the homeless man as Ellen shouted my name. I sat back onto my heels and turned to her.

"What is it, Ellen?"

"We're late!" she squealed, rushing away from the shop window she was peering into. "Come on!"

"But-" I started, turning back to the man on the paving stones.

"Come on Keira! We mustn’t be late again!"

As Ellen dragged me down the street, I looked back at the man on the pavement, an apologetic look in my eyes. I would be back soon, I hoped, so that I could find out what he meant by 'my chain'.

As Ellen dragged me round a corner and into another street, I turned back to her. She still had my arm in her hand. She let go as soon as she realized I wasn't longing to go back to the man, but I was. And she didn't know that.

"Keira, what were you thinking!?"

"Huh? I was just helping a man on the street, aren't we, as Angels, supposed to do that?"

 She sighed, "Why were you discussing your Chain with that man? You should know better, Keira!"

 I was shocked: How did she know about my chain, when I didn't know myself? "How did you-" I started.

"Miss Clark’s lesson," she interrupted. “You weren't listening, were you." She said a question, but the tone of her voice made it not one. But I answered it anyway.

"No, I wasn't. But you know I was distracted then." Ellen

sighed. “What did she say?" I asked, taking an unconscious step forwards.

“Nothing.” She wasn’t being rude, as it would be to some humans. She was being serious. Miss Clark probably didn’t say anything. That was bad. When you are told about something, but nothing other than what it is, you don’t talk about it, ask about it or research it, because it is something of the Devil. And it is bad. “Anyway," I continued, trying to block out that fact in what I was planning to do, "I thought you said we were late."

"No, we aren't, but we will be in a few minutes." So she had lied to me to get me away from finding out about my chain. It only made me more curious to find out what it is.

Ellen flicked her long curls away from her face. I did the same. We stood in the little alleyway with our hands entwined together and our heads to the sky. Thinking of our beautiful home in the sky, we both whispered, perfectly synchronized,

“Bring me home.”