Marcel Winatschek

Take Care

The city had shifted in an hour. It still smelled like cut flowers and ice cream, but the sun’s relentless heat was gone, replaced by this cool, unsettled calm under the dark clouds rolling low across the sky. Sina and I walked past the cafés along the street. Their staff were already moving chairs and tables to safety, like they could sense what was coming. I felt the first drops on my skin and pulled her hand, walking faster.

A group of kids ran past us toward a hair salon awning. The trees lining the sidewalk were dancing, papers swirling up from the pavement. Just as Sina got the apartment door open, it broke—real rain—and we both laughed running up the stairs. Her neighbor from upstairs rushed past yelling about laundry. We made it inside grinning.

She was a student living alone in this big old apartment. Her brother had lived here until a year ago when he overdosed. I never really knew him. There was just a small photo of him on a shelf in the living room. I took off my wet Chucks and went out on the balcony. The city was nearly invisible, dark except for lightning flashing. The air was thick and humid. Two weeks without rain. This was the first real storm of the summer. A good summer so far.

Sina was on her oversized designer bed—a graduation gift from her parents, though she would have wanted a car. Her wet clothes were on the floor. I lay beside her, wrapped around her from behind, and closed my eyes. She smelled good. Will you forget me? she asked quietly. No, I said into her neck. When do you leave? Tomorrow morning around six. Can I come? Yeah. I’d like that.

I’d known her maybe two months. Beautiful, blonde, great legs. But I was leaving and she knew it. We’d thrown this incredible party here once—felt like the best night of my life. Now the apartment felt almost empty. She was naked next to me on the bed. The night before hadn’t gone great. My head was somewhere else and I couldn’t focus. The fridge was almost bare. I grabbed an orange juice and sat on the couch. Euronews was playing. Berlin: 28°C. I changed to sports.

The alarm went off the next morning and I just stared at it. Didn’t even need it—I’d been awake all night. Sina came in half asleep, leaning against the doorframe. You’re not getting dressed? She didn’t answer, just went to the bathroom. I got up and opened the balcony door. It was already light out and the air smelled like fresh bread from the Turkish market downstairs. Somewhere her neighbor was yelling about laundry.

I remembered the first time I met her. A restaurant. I fell for her immediately watching her sit across from me. Beautiful narrow face, blonde in the light, that smile she had. Do you want kids? I asked while eating my burger. She looked up from her salad. Two. Me too. She looked back down. A boy and a girl, I said. She just nodded. We went to bed that first night anyway.

When she drove me to the airport, she didn’t smile once. I didn’t say much either. Take care, was all I had. Then I turned around and left.