video.
[ when the video turns on, leo is in the music room at home, seated in the window. there's a violin on the seat beside him, as well as some sheet music and a pen, and instead of musical notes, there are doodles on the papers, small sketches of a woman. --it's hard to tell who she might be, though, because the drawings are vague, empty of details.
he picks up the pen, twirling it between his fingers. ]
I was just thinking that I don't really remember my mother's face. Which I suppose I shouldn't be surprised about, really. I was young when she died, and she spent a lot of time away from our home, anyway, and I have a lot of memories that clamor around in my head.
[ he breathes a faint, somewhat surprised laugh. ]
I don't remember her face, but I remember once, for my birthday, she came back from town with this.. pretty little cake. [ he makes a fist, showing it to the nv. ] It couldn't have been bigger than this, with yellow frosting, like a sunflower. I wanted to share it with her, but she wouldn't have it. She said it was my birthday, and didn't I deserve a cake? It was the only one I'd ever had like that. Too sweet, of course, but when you're that age and you have a novelty, you enjoy every last bit of it.
[ he lowers his hand, squinting slightly in thought. ]
I haven't thought about that in a long time. Probably because I don't recall the date, which I suppose I should be embarrassed about, not remembering the date of my own birth, but it always worked before just to use the turning of the year as a marker. "Well, it's a new year, now I'm fifteen." .. That sort of thing.
[ he trails off, then glances down at the sketches, before reaching down to ball them up and toss them off-screen. ]
I suppose it doesn't matter anymore, anyway. [ he glances back down at the nv, expression a little wry. ] .. I think this year, when the year changes, I'll ask for about six inches of height and no more puffins in my living room.
he picks up the pen, twirling it between his fingers. ]
I was just thinking that I don't really remember my mother's face. Which I suppose I shouldn't be surprised about, really. I was young when she died, and she spent a lot of time away from our home, anyway, and I have a lot of memories that clamor around in my head.
[ he breathes a faint, somewhat surprised laugh. ]
I don't remember her face, but I remember once, for my birthday, she came back from town with this.. pretty little cake. [ he makes a fist, showing it to the nv. ] It couldn't have been bigger than this, with yellow frosting, like a sunflower. I wanted to share it with her, but she wouldn't have it. She said it was my birthday, and didn't I deserve a cake? It was the only one I'd ever had like that. Too sweet, of course, but when you're that age and you have a novelty, you enjoy every last bit of it.
[ he lowers his hand, squinting slightly in thought. ]
I haven't thought about that in a long time. Probably because I don't recall the date, which I suppose I should be embarrassed about, not remembering the date of my own birth, but it always worked before just to use the turning of the year as a marker. "Well, it's a new year, now I'm fifteen." .. That sort of thing.
[ he trails off, then glances down at the sketches, before reaching down to ball them up and toss them off-screen. ]
I suppose it doesn't matter anymore, anyway. [ he glances back down at the nv, expression a little wry. ] .. I think this year, when the year changes, I'll ask for about six inches of height and no more puffins in my living room.