Pit’S Note Book Avalanche (Part 2)“Hi Sasha,” he wrote in the chat room, after a long delay sitting in his small apartment located not far from the Hudson River.
“Hi Pit. What is up?” he saw an immediate response.
“All is good. Not much,” he typed again.
“Where are you? I was looking for you all over the world for a couple of days now,” she asked.
“New York,” he replied.
“Why there? Why did you leave Toronto without any warning? Are you writing?” he saw rushing questions.
“No, not really. I have some problems with my computer and I can’t do much. I think that somebody is after me and causing all of this...
I feel safe here. This is the only one place…,” he tried to change subject.
“They are asking! They want to see the next chapters of the book or they will quit on you,” she said decisively.
“I am doing my best. I am telling the truth, but they are after me. I can’t breathe. They chasing me…” he tried to continue his case.
“I want to see you now!” she hit him in the head.
“How?” he wrote after awhile.
“You know how, camera!!! Don’t play stupid,” she pushed him hard.
“I am naked,” he wrote slowly.
“And?”she was relentless.
“I have to shave and…” he tried again.
“I know every inch of your body and every pair of your dirty socks. I washed them for you many times. Don’t play with me. I know you better than you think. Did you see birds again? I want to see you now!!!” she demanded.
“OK. OK. Just a second,” he went to his folder, copied last evenings writing and pasted in the window. He waited for a few minutes, thinking.
“Pit!” he saw in the chat room and pressed the send button.
Adam was standing in his white bathrobe on the balcony of the Moulin Rouge hotel and he was searching the landscape. Early morning in Lyon with soft touches of wind and muggy rays of sunlight was quite amusing.
He started carving in his mind:
Far away. Far away from my heart there is the music which feeds me well. You are so distant and I will never reach you again. I wouldn’t bear my loneliness anymore…I would… Still you keep coming as flash of the soul. And I want to hear this melody... Just once more.
Mirabelle came quietly. He could feel her smell. Radiation of her feminine side. Her free will, desire of unknown, craving for completion. She placed her cheek on his wide open and strong back and moved closer. Her whole body was hidden now in his. He could feel the pulse of her every vein and he admired her shapely beauty. Her every slight move tasted like forgotten nectar and was pleasurable. They breathed gently as one and sank in peace.
“Do you still go with the hookers?” she brought him to the surface.
“Hm...I slept very well. Thank you for inviting me. It was really kind of you. Did you choose this room?” Adam started delicately shake inside.
She took cigarettes out her pocket and placed one in his mouth.
“I quit,” he said.
She took the lighter and touched him with the flame, next she threw the lighter over the balustrade.
“You hate them,” said Adam.
”I love the way how you try to hide your weaknesses,” she said. You are so visible and easy to read when you do that.”
He took a puff and opened all the windows and doors.
“I like the view here. It feels like the sea. You know how much…” he started.
“Why do you never touched me?” she asked.
“I am not sure if you really want that.” he answered and took a deep breath. “ You love her. Why did you ask Barbara to write to me?”
“I was afraid that you will say that you can’t come,” she answered and moved her head pushing top of it into his back and separating them to within the distance of ice cube.
“How is Philippe?” continued Adam. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
“He looks almost like you but for sure he is Stan son,” she said and took cigarette out of his mouth and threw it away.
“Stan looks good. Your brother is very strong, just war changed him…”– said Adam as tried to escape to the room. She moved closer again and caught his bathrobe on both sides pulling him towards her.
“Stan will never change,” she said rubbing her head over his back. “Do you still write a lot?”
“No, not much lately, not at all,” Adam become a bit nervous.
I don’t believe you,” she said. “Whenever you lie you sound agitated and artificial. I want to hear it now. I want to see your last page. Your last hour of thought.”
She reached into her pocket again and pulled out another cigarette. She placed it between her lips and inhaled dry a few times. Then with the wet marks on it she slid it into his mouth.
“I want the last page,” she said again and surrounded him with her arms.
He took cigarette out of his mouth and threw it away. Then he touched his lips and spread wet spots over them. And he started reading out of his mind.
When I look for more… river faster runs… it takes all away. Hands of my desire are empty but they long for home. Nothing - is quiet enough…I will go and make sense out of it…to learn that I lost another chance. Far away. Far away from my heart there is the music...
Bolek 41-45, M 26 Responses 32 Feb 8, 2013