A Lace Torn

He had a good family but didn’t mind that his cold sister didn’t allow him to sit in the crescent at mealtimes.

When he entered the school, a louse was implanted on his chest. He climbed the tree, and when he descended the watermelon was a louse.

His life was diminished by the fall of a pin.

They called his aunt from a neighbor.

He found that from the savory overripe taste of the urine,

“Laat!”

There had been a flight of cymbals.

“It is still winter, just think of it, today is winter.

It was so beautiful for two minutes.

And you, you are speaking about winter, and I am living.”

He noticed her blouse, her shoulders, her beautiful legs.

“What are you looking at?”

“You. You are something remarkable. I love to have you in my arms. And your stomach is so fat, no?

Yes?”

They took some rooms.

The lace was torn, and the bride had a headache from a bash, it had been a jilbab he put on and the veil of the crucifixion.

The bride was in a pajama, and she lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

He took his glasses off, and gave her some water.

“There. Now you can put on the sunglasses. They are there. They’ve been there.”

They lay in bed.

She stroked his head.

She kissed his lips, and he closed his eyes.

“We’ll be there in a minute,” he said.

When they arrived at the party, some people said that they shouldn’t go in the library, but in the next room.

They went into the corridor, and a woman with a small head came out of the library.

“Are you new?”

She put a finger on his lips.

“Are you asleep?”

“Yes, I am very tired. I had trouble sleeping. I was thinking about the problem of God.” he said.

“We’ve been talking about this for a long time. She looks a little suspicious. I know that she does not approve of me. I am very sure. I’ve met her twice in the park. You are so much mistaken if you say that she is my wife. She is a very good friend.”

They went to the room.

The music was terrific.

He remembered dancing with her in the school, with the knife strapped upon her thigh, and with a knife in her mouth. She threw herself to him, and she began to cry.

“There is a man. He wants to send me back to the mountains. He has not given up. The man says that the mountains are more beautiful. I like the mountains very much. It’s very sad to have him look at me like that. The woman says that I am going to die. She says that I am going to die.”

“The laws are different in the mountains,” she said.

“And where are you going to die? And have a problem with the disease?” He asked.

“A lot of people have the disease. They are buried in the mountains.”

“And you are going to the mountains to die?”

“No. In another town.”

“And where is the problem?”

“You cannot live as a lesbian. It is not good. It’s very bad. Yes? A beautiful woman like you, it is not good. It is bad.”

“How do you know all this?”

“The women who live with their women are beautiful and happy.

But the woman who has a man is not.

He goes to the mountains to die, and the woman has a fat belly.

She is unhappy.”

“Didn’t you say something like that before?

You said that if the woman has a man, and her belly is fat, then it is bad.

But this woman is fat.

She is not happy.”

“I told you that I cannot have a man, no?

I am a bad man.

It is not good.

My father was a good man.

He was a member of the Orthodox Church.

He was not happy.

I am happy because I have a man, but he is not happy.

No?

Yes?”

She was holding her head.

She was crying.

“Are you tired?”

He said.

“You have been crying.”

“No, I am not tired.

The woman told me.

I am happy.

I love him.

I love him.

He is strong.

I love him very much.

She tells me that if I have a man, I will die, yes?”

“What does it matter if it is a man or a woman who dies?”

“Because I can not have a man.

He is good, but I cannot have a man.

I cannot.”

“Is it possible to have a man?”

“Yes.

When I was a child, I wanted a family.

My mother told me that I was a man.

But I cannot have a man.

You can not kill a man, and a woman does not want to kill a man.

I want to be with a man.

It’s beautiful.

I want to be happy.

I want to be with a man.

If I want to die, it will be good.”

“If you were going to die,” he said, “what would you like to have?”

“I would have a fruit tree.”

:: 07.01.2022 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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