First it had been music, now it was theatre. After initially feeling annoyed, Diane had ended up giving in to this strong artistic pulse that kept on coming from below her feet. It seemed that whatever way you tried to lock it down, life kept on pushing through. People still needed each other, needed to get together and share … drinks, creativity, physical contact… She could feel it seeping through the floorboards when Rose was asleep and she was alone with her thoughts. She would sit on the floor, directly next to the crib, and roll the cat’s felt ball for him to catch. The game never lasted very long as it usually is the case with cats but, even after he had moved on to another toy, she would just sit there and feel the human vibe coming strong up her spine. It was like sitting on a volcano.
Falsa esbelta, Ute was. False slim. She looked slender in clothes, but naked, she was full of curves and rounds and dimples. Something to hold on comfortably, Guy told himself. And he did hold on her that night, and much more than that, and the night was long, and they promised to see each other again. Guy had all the reasons to be happy. Having spent large part of his adulthood alone, he was oversensitive to people´s particularities, so even with Ute, he already spotted habits that irritated him. For example, when he went to the balcony to have a cigarette after sex, she made a funny face when he returned and kissed her. So, she did not like smoke, he could understand that. But he did not like the face she made, and the way she exaggerated her reaction. He used the toothpaste and put a chewing gum into his mouth to appease her (at the beginning we are so ready to bend to the other´s needs). It did not work, after smelling the mint on his mouth, she looked she would vomit, there, into his fresh linen he prepared for their night. Nevertheless, sex itself was gorgeous, especially the oral pleasures on both sides, juicy, lusty, hot. And Guy´s mother did not occur during it once, nice on her side, he murmured, as he sipped cold beer in the Av. Couronne bar Sunday night, the night after…
Dès le premier mois de grossesse, les hormones ont commencé à se répandre dans le corps d’Ute tel un fleuve abondant et intarissable. Elle ressentait des sensations qu’elle n’avait jamais connues avant.
Toutes ses amies l’avaient prévenue : « Tu vomiras et tu seras épuisée. Tu auras l’impression que le contrôle de ton corps t’échappe. Bien sûr, ce n’est encore rien en comparaison avec ce qui viendra à l’accouchement. Là, ce sera l’horreur totale. La grossesse n’en est qu’un avant-goût ! » Continue reading →
The Mermaid. Painting by John William Waterhouse, 1901
Como bien sabe el lector, durante la cuarentena y debido a algunas dramáticas circunstancias en su vida, a Ute se le dio por beber más de la cuenta. Acodada en la barra del establecimiento de la Avenida de la Corona o metida en su modesto apartamento ubicado cerca de las instituciones, con un infaltable vaso en la mano, Ute miraba con ojos vidriosos los cuadros y láminas que pendían de las paredes y veía cómo cobraban vida y hasta le hablaban los personajes que ahí vivían.
He aquí uno de los muchos episodios que le sucedió a Ute en aquellos días. Continue reading →
Diane had grown so sick of these cabaret nights. During the spring wave of the pandemic, the clandestine bar had been a safe harbour where lost souls came in search of a discreet encounter, whispering over a glass of bourbon and planning forbidden midnight meetings to ease their loneliness. You could live right on top of it and never guess that people met in a bar below. Now that Yollande had become infatuated with George her bartender, he had convinced her to “broaden” the pleasures and Saturday nights were now known as “performance nights”, whether Diane liked it or not.
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