Sarah deschise uşa holului. Nu se putu abţine să adulmece, încercând să detecteze un eventual miros de sudoare. Dar era prea devreme. Casa nu transpira niciodată înainte de miezul nopţii. Georges îi explicase asta de nenumărate ori.
Lăsă pachetele într-un colţ al holului, la picioarele unei armuri. PenduJa arăta şase şi un sfert.
Probabil că era aproape miezul nopţii când casa deveni jilavă. Georges, nemişcat în mijlocul bibliotecii imense, simţi cum mirosul invadează firma de contabilitate treptat încăperea. Un miros greu şi uleios, care îţi făcea greaţă. Rezemat în coate de birou şi cu palmele aşezate de o parte şi de alta a unei enciclopedii groase pe care o răsfoia, Georges se prefăcu a nu observa nimic şi îşi potrivi ochelarii pe nas. Dar panica i se amplifica, făcând să-i danseze în faţa ochilor literele mici de pe pagina presărată cu pete de umezeală, împiedicându-1 să mai citească. Se strădui să-şi controleze respiraţia. Acum era trecut cu două minute de miezul nopţii. O tăcere profundă şi apăsătoare domnea în sala cu pereţii acoperiţi de cărţi. Avea senzaţia că tavanul cobora încet, aidoma unui ciocan cu aburi, ca să-1 strivească, pe el, Georges Mareuil-Mondesco, omuleţul pierdut într-un fotoliu de piele, prea mare pentru el.
Georges detesta mobilierul casei. Megalomania tatălui său dusese la umplerea celor treizeci şi trei de încăperi ale locuinţei cu un mobilier disproporţionat, care părea a fi fost fabricat pentru o armată de giganţi. Totul era prea larg, prea înalt, prea gros. Trebuia să apuci cu amândouă mâinile mânerele sertare-lor ca să le poţi trage, să-ţi soliciţi toţi muşchii ca să deschizi.
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miercuri, 4 mai 2011
Piele neagra
îmbrăcată toată în pieie neagră, cu umerii obrajilor proemi-nenţi, ochii alungiţi şi parcă ceva dintr-o preoteasă egipteană obosită de rugăciuni nesfârşite. Rugâciuni sau sacrificii...
Ştia că toate celelalte femei se uită la ea. Le simţea privirile ca pe atingerea uşoară a unor aripi de fluture. Priviri geloase, vindicative. Zâmbi şi amestecăîn ceai cu linguriţa de argint. O ceremonie desuetă, care o liniştea mai bine decât ar fi făcut-o tranchilizantele cele mai eficiente.
işi petrecuse ziua umblând după cumpărături şi făcând o grămadâ dc alte activităţi inutile. Cumpărasc haine, lenjerie fină şi pierduse o oră întreagă căutând ciorapi de o anumită nuanţă cenuşie. Pentru cine? Pentru ce?
Se tot îmbrăcase şi dezbrăcase în spaţiui îngust al cabine-lor de probă, şi de fiecare dată surprinsese în privirea vânzătoa-relor aceeaşi scânteie de admiraţie. Intr-un magazin din cartie-rul Marais, chiar auzise o fată şoptind: ,,Are asta un look!..." Era plăcut să te joci de-a femeia normală. Putca să-şi spună că e soţia trândavă a unui cadru superioi si că i.şi petrece /ilelc frecventând magazinele şi librâriilc-saloanc de ceai unde se vorbeşte cu gura plină despre literatură.
„Marţi, la ora optsprezece, mă duc la cursul de bui fttărie chinezească". visa ea, „Vineri, şedinţa de gimnasticfl tibeta-nă..."
Eraun joc. Jocul de-a f,oamenii normali" ftde fnclată
ce ieşea pe poana vilci. străduindu se să uite totul
Ştia că toate celelalte femei se uită la ea. Le simţea privirile ca pe atingerea uşoară a unor aripi de fluture. Priviri geloase, vindicative. Zâmbi şi amestecăîn ceai cu linguriţa de argint. O ceremonie desuetă, care o liniştea mai bine decât ar fi făcut-o tranchilizantele cele mai eficiente.
işi petrecuse ziua umblând după cumpărături şi făcând o grămadâ dc alte activităţi inutile. Cumpărasc haine, lenjerie fină şi pierduse o oră întreagă căutând ciorapi de o anumită nuanţă cenuşie. Pentru cine? Pentru ce?
Se tot îmbrăcase şi dezbrăcase în spaţiui îngust al cabine-lor de probă, şi de fiecare dată surprinsese în privirea vânzătoa-relor aceeaşi scânteie de admiraţie. Intr-un magazin din cartie-rul Marais, chiar auzise o fată şoptind: ,,Are asta un look!..." Era plăcut să te joci de-a femeia normală. Putca să-şi spună că e soţia trândavă a unui cadru superioi si că i.şi petrece /ilelc frecventând magazinele şi librâriilc-saloanc de ceai unde se vorbeşte cu gura plină despre literatură.
„Marţi, la ora optsprezece, mă duc la cursul de bui fttărie chinezească". visa ea, „Vineri, şedinţa de gimnasticfl tibeta-nă..."
Eraun joc. Jocul de-a f,oamenii normali" ftde fnclată
ce ieşea pe poana vilci. străduindu se să uite totul
marți, 1 februarie 2011
Because I know you'll understand
To my Dearest "K"....
Eleven months ago we sat in the bodega, drinking wine and smoking butts, cracking up with each other as we admitted to ourselves that our lives had become pointless materialistic voids centered around superficial NYC bullshit with no real meaning or purpose. It was that evening over two (6) bottles of wine that we both admitted that we needed to take our lives to the next level... babies were in the near future for us both and oh did we have grand plans!
Within 2 months - was it even that long? - you busted me and outed my early pregnancy (you're so damn perceptive) and you delighted in my joy, toasting my apple juice with your glasses of bubbly. We giggled and hooted about how fertile I was and agonized over your own fertility issues, googling and questioning what could be wrong... why weren't you conceiving?
And then while you were on vacation I lost the baby. That was one of the hardest parts of that loss... and you knew it. The timing was horrible since you were my closest local accomplice and I know it killed us both that we were apart for that. Nevertheless, you came back and we delved into the reasons why, fought back the tears, clinked our glasses and vowed to continue our struggles.. both of us.
And then finally in January you giddily announced your impending arrival to me. I want you to know that I was excited for you.. and still am, and I apologize if I was distant at times. My hurt was still fresh and my tears still not dry.
......And then you moved.
......And then I got pregnant again.
......And then I lost it again.
Today you are 7 months pregnant and now live 4 hours away from me. Your life sounds fabulous and I am so excited every time I speak to you and you tell me more about Isabella-Rose and how much she's growing and wiggling inside of you. I love hearing about baby-yoga and all of the fabulous classes you're taking as you near your due date. I wish nothing but the best for you, E and the baby who is destined to be a knockout, not to mention a scholar.
So here is where my problem lies "K"....
I have recently received your baby shower invitation which is beautiful and so "you". I want so badly to share in your joy but shamefully I must ask you to excuse me since apparantly I am still a selfish, immature, self-centered, egotistical ass and cannot bring myself to sit in a room filled with the joy I so desperatly wanted for myself.
I promise to you that I will come visit you later this year after your little one arrives. Hopefully by then "Dad" and I will have some more concrete reasons as to why this keeps happening and the envy would have subsided with the knowledge of what needs to be done. For now we are living way too much in the unknown and that makes this all the more hard.
I know you get it, coz you're "K" and you're a fabulously understanding, supportive, compassionate and beautiful friend. I know you won't hold this against me and I want you to know it's not that I don't want to be there, I just don't think that I am emotionally ready to be there yet.
I love you girl and again, I'm sorry.
Eleven months ago we sat in the bodega, drinking wine and smoking butts, cracking up with each other as we admitted to ourselves that our lives had become pointless materialistic voids centered around superficial NYC bullshit with no real meaning or purpose. It was that evening over two (6) bottles of wine that we both admitted that we needed to take our lives to the next level... babies were in the near future for us both and oh did we have grand plans!
Within 2 months - was it even that long? - you busted me and outed my early pregnancy (you're so damn perceptive) and you delighted in my joy, toasting my apple juice with your glasses of bubbly. We giggled and hooted about how fertile I was and agonized over your own fertility issues, googling and questioning what could be wrong... why weren't you conceiving?
And then while you were on vacation I lost the baby. That was one of the hardest parts of that loss... and you knew it. The timing was horrible since you were my closest local accomplice and I know it killed us both that we were apart for that. Nevertheless, you came back and we delved into the reasons why, fought back the tears, clinked our glasses and vowed to continue our struggles.. both of us.
And then finally in January you giddily announced your impending arrival to me. I want you to know that I was excited for you.. and still am, and I apologize if I was distant at times. My hurt was still fresh and my tears still not dry.
......And then you moved.
......And then I got pregnant again.
......And then I lost it again.
Today you are 7 months pregnant and now live 4 hours away from me. Your life sounds fabulous and I am so excited every time I speak to you and you tell me more about Isabella-Rose and how much she's growing and wiggling inside of you. I love hearing about baby-yoga and all of the fabulous classes you're taking as you near your due date. I wish nothing but the best for you, E and the baby who is destined to be a knockout, not to mention a scholar.
So here is where my problem lies "K"....
I have recently received your baby shower invitation which is beautiful and so "you". I want so badly to share in your joy but shamefully I must ask you to excuse me since apparantly I am still a selfish, immature, self-centered, egotistical ass and cannot bring myself to sit in a room filled with the joy I so desperatly wanted for myself.
I promise to you that I will come visit you later this year after your little one arrives. Hopefully by then "Dad" and I will have some more concrete reasons as to why this keeps happening and the envy would have subsided with the knowledge of what needs to be done. For now we are living way too much in the unknown and that makes this all the more hard.
I know you get it, coz you're "K" and you're a fabulously understanding, supportive, compassionate and beautiful friend. I know you won't hold this against me and I want you to know it's not that I don't want to be there, I just don't think that I am emotionally ready to be there yet.
I love you girl and again, I'm sorry.
Jackpot
In honor of today's rare (and potentially lucky) 07.07.07 date I thought I'd share some interesting 7's facts with you ladies.....
Not only is 7-7-7 the top slot machine jackpot but it also adds up to 21 in Black Jack. There are 7 days of the week, 7 colors in a rainbow, 7 ancient metals, 7 wonders of the world, 7 planets that can be seen with the naked eye, 7 notes in the traditional musical scale, 7 days of creation in the Bible, and 7 Wonders of the World.
The number seems to carry religious symbolism too. Not only did God create the world in six days and rest on the seventh but Catholics also celebrate seven sacraments and seven virtues. In Jewish weddings the bride circles the groom seven times and the couple has seven days of festive meals. Did I mention that a menorah has 7 candelabras?
In almost every system of antiquity there are also frequent references to the number seven. There were for instance seven ancient planets, the sun being the greatest planet and next to the sun, the moon, changing in all its splendor every seventh day.
The Arabians had seven Holy Temples and in Persian mysteries there were seven spacious caverns through which the aspirants had to pass. The Goths had seven deities, as did the Romans, from whose names are derived our days of the week.
So one can only conclude that this day, which comes only once in a lifetime MUST be a significant and possibly serendipitous day.
Perhaps I'll go buy some scratch tickets... just in case.
Oh, and I think that those of you not currently benched by your Doctors should definitely get to bumpin' uglies today.
Do it for me... come on, take one for the team.
Not only is 7-7-7 the top slot machine jackpot but it also adds up to 21 in Black Jack. There are 7 days of the week, 7 colors in a rainbow, 7 ancient metals, 7 wonders of the world, 7 planets that can be seen with the naked eye, 7 notes in the traditional musical scale, 7 days of creation in the Bible, and 7 Wonders of the World.
The number seems to carry religious symbolism too. Not only did God create the world in six days and rest on the seventh but Catholics also celebrate seven sacraments and seven virtues. In Jewish weddings the bride circles the groom seven times and the couple has seven days of festive meals. Did I mention that a menorah has 7 candelabras?
In almost every system of antiquity there are also frequent references to the number seven. There were for instance seven ancient planets, the sun being the greatest planet and next to the sun, the moon, changing in all its splendor every seventh day.
The Arabians had seven Holy Temples and in Persian mysteries there were seven spacious caverns through which the aspirants had to pass. The Goths had seven deities, as did the Romans, from whose names are derived our days of the week.
So one can only conclude that this day, which comes only once in a lifetime MUST be a significant and possibly serendipitous day.
Perhaps I'll go buy some scratch tickets... just in case.
Oh, and I think that those of you not currently benched by your Doctors should definitely get to bumpin' uglies today.
Do it for me... come on, take one for the team.
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