Misc

[Nikos] The departure

1

Translation to English & editing of the english text: Cleopatra Strati

My eyes were closed as a sweet euphoria covers me filling my soul. As I sip the cigarette that I hold in my fingers its scents fill me, like a mother’s hug before sleep. I sit comfortably in my chair, in my office, wearing my work suit full of her scent. The one she used to wear when she was at my house. Although she had come long ago, I could still taste her in my mouth. A taste that even the bitterness of my cigarette cannot drive away. A taste of green apple, so ethereal and special, at the same time.

*

One day she finally asked me my name. For so long we avoided introducing ourselves, frightened of losing the magic of the unknown. I told her the first name that came to my mind, which I’ll be wearing from now on for the sake of this story. Nikos, I said… not Nikolas, not Nick… Nikos. She introduced herself to me as Penelope, like Odysseus’ wife; ‘’But I am not waiting for anyone’’, she made sure to point out playfully as she stripped me for the umpteenth time.

Her soft fingers walked over my scars. She would want to know where I got them, but our agreement was no questions about our pasts

She had a scar on her lower abdomen, possibly a cesarean section. What is the little one waiting for her at home to feed it and put it to sleep?

I wonder how many customers she could have in one night; tonight. When will she get back home to take care of her little one? When will she wake up again in the morning? When will she go shopping? When will she cook? When will she come to me again? When …? 

So many thoughts, so many feelings that are forbidden to exist for me. For Nikos. For Penelope.

*

She seems happy coming to me. Every time she appears at my house, so beautiful, so well-dressed and ethereal, she grabs me by the neck and kisses me greedily as if she is filling her body with me; as if this is the only thing she wanted for so long; from me. 

‘’Penelope…’’.

We then walked to the living room, where whiskey awaits us for a casual conversation. She knows when I want her; she offers herself to me. She understands me, she can feel me. She knows that I would do anything for having her on top of me. And when I cannot wait longer, she welcomes me as if I am something sacred; something sweet…

*

My eyes nailed the fire imagining her with her long black hair glistening in the flames as she rocks on top of me. 

I look down at the floor and see her lying, naked, surrounded by blood. Her blood. She has gone away … from this world… I couldn’t bear it; I couldn’t bear the betrayal in her eyes; I couldn’t bear her movements while taking me. It was so obvious. She had other clients; other men that treated them in the very same way as me; kissing them greedily, wearing the same perfume…

No… now she is just mine… The cigarette goes out in my fingers as I lean down to stroke her long ebony hair. My head is fuzzy from the drink and her taste.

All I wonder about is that little one waiting for her at home tonight. I grab the revolver with my right hand aiming at my head. Nobody is waiting for me. That’s for sure.

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