Jessica Darling – part 1

The first time that I ever laid eyes on Jess was through her kitchen window.

It feels like a life time ago that I was rushing past her window, down the landing of probably the ugliest block of flats in Cape Town. I was barefoot, hand over my nose, trying not to breathe in the stale cigarette stench wafting from #3’s windows. Her flaying arms caught my attention and I stopped for a moment. I then realised that she was dancing, headphones on, lips quivering as she sang along with the music. She looked so beautiful, and so weird. Not one to admit a passing tendency towards voyeurism, I continued my dash towards the stairs.

I sat down heavily, with a sigh, halfway down the flight of stairs. What an idiot I thought to myself. Me, I was the idiot. I’d only just, very unofficially, moved in with my boyfriend, and here I was hiding in a stairwell. Maybe not so “unofficially” – I’d given away my bed after all. And my collection of sheep vertebrae. Greg was pretty insistent that he did not want old bones in his home. Fuck I thought. This was the part where I pull myself towards myself and crawl back to the flat to apologise – I really hate apologising. I could see my parent’s disappointed faces in my mind, wordlessly asking how I’d managed to mess up yet another relationship.

I ran back to Greg’s flat. Sorry, our flat. I apologised and made him a cup of tea. Somewhere ingrained into my psyche, tea is a tool of emotional manipulation.

I didn’t mention the mysterious dancer from #4 to Greg. I did, however, peep into her window whenever I passed by her kitchen window, which was at least twice a day.

To be continued.

All photos in the series: Brooke Cagle