Sharon Har Paz

It’s Over. The End. Summarizing / part 4

 

Florence + The Machine – You’ve Got the Love

 

Our weekly rendezvous, sometimes in your town, sometimes in mine, while your hand did not leave mine… Your soft, sweet, little hand. The departures that cruelly cut off our desire to stay together longer. That always ended with a kiss that left me craving for you with all my heart and soul… Our mobiles that smoked of… How sweet nostalgia is…

Our first night. I invited you over for the weekend. It was not easy. I did not know what I should do. Did not know if I’ll be in the mood… What I would desire… What you would… You arrived on Thursday after work. Once again, I escorted you on your way. This time – to me. I go down to wait for you. My heart is pounding strongly when you tell where you are, and I steer you to turn into the cross-road, the third turn to the right, then immediately to the left and left again, and here is your car and I point at an empty parking space. Faraway from the evil eye of the parking ticketers.

I am holding the handle of your car door and open it. You step out. I look into your eyes. You gaze at mine. My whole world focuses on you. In the magic that you are. Smiling. You take out your bag. I am taking your hand and we go up to my place. To my living space, that will also become yours in the next months.

The memories are so vivid. Even now, through the pain, the shock, the bleeding wound. Still. I open the door, step aside and invite you in. And from the moment the door is closed… Goodness, is there anything in the world that could equal to what we had between us? And what was going on between us? My whole world was shaken. You and I amid a white cloud. I bite my lips until they bleed while you show me your magic love. The fire burst in me, the burning flames, the bed sheets are on fire. And the smoke. Ho, the smoke. It billows up-up on to all seven heavens, lifts us to spheres I have never known existence.

I gave myself to you. I thought it would last forever… I thought that… What does it matter now what I thought. It did not happen. Four months of love you gave me. Four months in which we saturated our nights with love and talks and fun. When I recall it now, I wonder how we withstood those sleepless nights. We were intoxicated. With love. And sometimes we touched grief, those dark places in our lives we did not dare tell another soul. We were best of friends, very close. Our souls merged. We used to get up early, eat breakfast together and each went off to her job. At times, we stepped out of our four private walls. Sometimes, you stayed in your town, at your home. Sometimes, you invited me to your place. Other times, we allowed ourselves to give each other space and spent time separately each with our own friends. You introduced me to some of yours. You never manage to meet R. It did not happen. Perhaps deliberately. I don’t know. Maybe you did not deserve to know her.

You rationed me four months of euphoria and it seems you had enough. Suddenly, you found out that what charmed you in me at the beginning, does not suit you anymore. It’s not that you have changed. You sobered up. That’s what you said. And I used to stare at you with embarrassed lamb eyes and swallow the insult. All of a sudden, there was no heat anymore, no desire to be with me. As if all we had between us just faded away. As if nothing was there. It went up in flames. No firebrand left in you. And me… My life ended. I could not comprehend how love can fade away. Especially love like this. You wanted us to stay friends. You said it is possible because you treasure our touching each other’s soul. That you care for me. That you don’t want to cut our relationship off. It took me a while. A lot of time. But I could not understand this separation. The severance of love and a friendly relationship. How to separate one sanctity from another. Because it can’t be otherwise between us. And I could not accept it. Each time you tried to talk to me, each time I found you waiting at my door, each time you touched me, each time you made love to me… I bled. I could not really understand what it is that you wanted from me. You said your love for me has faded, so how come you wanted to make love to me? You turned my world upside down. I asked you to leave me alone. I begged you to spare me because I couldn’t bear the ambiguousness of this incomprehensible tango. One step forward and two backward. Brings me closer and pushes away. Teasing. You were teasing me, lady!

Part 5 coming up on 1.5.20

Hallucinating words

It’s Over. The End. Summarizing / part 3

Glenn Close, Judy Davis – Serving in Silence

 

When one door closes, another opens. Indeed, not always, but it happened to me. Someone nice from work, maybe my sad being touched her heart, invited me for coffee… and it seemed to be the beginning of a wonderful friendship… Such as I missed since I moved from my previous place and life. You know, sometimes there’s a click between people. A click that turns them into best friends, such that never divorces each other and it does not matter who or what comes between them. Not even a man.

She advised me as to what I should do. Remember the fax I “made a mistake with” and instead of faxing to someone else, it arrived on your machine? I have never revealed to you that it was planned. I never had the chance. And it started a new cycle of a magnificent telephone connection. You have suddenly realized that you missed me (so you said), but you were afraid to get in touch because you thought I was mad at you and you even imagined that I would hang up on you. You blessed my “mistake” and we returned to our sleepless nights. You did not give the internet up. You juggled between us. And I felt ok with that.

Again, you suggested we should meet. You said it does not make sense that we know each other for such a long time, nine months already, and we have not seen each other yet. Nine months of euphoria… I did not know what to do. I feared. No. Fear is an understatement. I was scared. I trembled. Great horror grabbed me and would not let go. I was terrified. And what if you won’t like me? You persuaded me that such a thing could not happen, you are not impressed by appearances, especially since we shared our souls so deeply on our sleepless nights. And besides, you added, we are not getting married, it’s not a blind date J You did not ease my doubts, but I could not resist anymore. You and your magnificent persuasion skills. You, whose profession was public relations, no wonder…

I will always treasure the day we met… Wednesday, five in the afternoon. The moment I laid my eyes on you – I knew something in me had changed. That I’ll never be the same. And it seems that that was the beginning of something special. I did not know then what it was exactly. We did not pay attention to the time and suddenly it was night and you had to go home, which was outside my zip code, half an hour away. I accompanied you to your car, holding in my hand (and in my heart) another moment with you, a few more minutes… We stood there silently, in the underground parking lot of the mall. After all the words we poured into each other’s ears, we did not wish to talk anymore. We looked deeply in each other’s eyes, yours with the flowing honey that streamed directly into my beating heart, enveloping it with magnificent sweetness… Suddenly you extended your arms and I sank into them… And before I could gather my confused mind because of the wonderful warmth that was beaming from you, you kissed my lips… The kiss went on and on and on… I was extremely excited. The first kiss ever from a woman.

And suddenly… suddenly I understood that everything that happened in my life until now, led me to experience this kiss. Two marriages, two divorces, and empty relationships with men who did not appeal to me in between. And that kiss of yours was what I have searched for all my life, that my whole life was aimed towards… And it seems that it was the beginning of a special love. I fell in love. With you. You conquered me.

We said goodbye, but did not separate. I remained standing there, staring at the curve where your car disappeared, unable to make myself move. I accompanied you on your way home. I escorted you on your way through our mobiles. And when you arrived home safely, you asked me to avoid spending the night in the parking lot… And now it was your turn to accompany me through my way home…

You asked if I was all right. I did not know for sure. I only knew that I was seriously in love. With a woman. For the first time in my life. Seriously smitten way over my head. Madly. And I knew what they call it. And I did not mind, because what flooded over me was the rightest thing I have ever felt my entire life. And I am no longer a spring chicken. And I had experienced a lot. And I have never really loved. I went through the motions, imitated the steps, played the game, but did not feel. My heart was never ever filled like this with this warm feeling.

Of course I told my girlfriend. This is what we have friends for. And she accepted it with such understanding, with such empathy, and she was happy her advice worked and I found love due to it. Days of bliss and nights of a joyous heart. Of coming home, taking a shower, making myself something tasty to eat, staring at the television and daydreaming about you. I sense you in my bones. Sometimes I even talked to you, as if you were present, sharing my life. Your invisible image was soaring in my apartment. I was not alone anymore.

Part 4 coming up on 27.4.20

Hallucinating words

It’s Over. The End. Summarizing / part 2

Kristin Chenoweth – Maybe This Time

 

Three more months had passed. Magnificent. Coming home from work, waiting impatiently for the time to pass until you called. You did not always call. Sometimes you went out and when you came back late, you did not want to disturb my sleep. If only you knew how I tossed and turned restlessly in my bed, because I did not get my expected dose… I never told you this. I did not have the chance. And our conversations… Oh, we talked and talked and talked… There is so much to talk about and it seems that we were blessed with nine point nine of this ability, and barely left anything to others. How many sleepless nights we had together… And in the morning I went to work with such joy, with such exultation… In the office they thought that I’m in love.

And then you connected to the internet, and that was the beginning of the end. Too many times you chose to spend the night there instead of talking to me. And when I would call you, which caused you to be cut off, you became angry and waved me away. The third time it happened, I understood that you are not interested in me, so I stopped calling.

A month passed. A nightmare of a month. A horrible month. A month of terrible loneliness. A month of coming home full of hope that maybe this time… But the fax machine was empty and the phone did not ring. I understood that I must exclude you of my craving. After all, what have we got here? A wrong number, an exchange of information (indeed, interesting and it’s a shame it ended), magnificent conversations into the night and… emptiness. You have erased me from your life as if I was never there. What should I do? How could one get over an addiction?

Part 3 coming up on 24.4.20

Hallucinating words

It’s Over. The End. Summarizing / part 1

Or all of the Above… You may choose the title that suits you. I no longer have the patience for the small details.

Indigo Girls – Least Complicated

It has been a year since you told me to exit your living space. A year since my world fell apart. A year.

We met. You, readers, would probably be surprised to know where we met – on the fax machine… Of all the places in the world. Not during a chat, not in a forum, not in a pub, nor by any other means – only via the fax. And by accident. She meant to send something to a friend and for some reason dialed my number. Of all the numbers in the world. And mind you – I am in a different dial zone.

I have my manners, so I faxed back to her to let her know that she got the wrong number, then she replied and I answered… and it seemed to be the beginning of a wonderful friendship… Three months of communication via fax. Three months of getting home from work and first thing looking for a fax from her. The emptiness inside the heart when nothing was there. The exulting joy when noticing the slanting train… like a bridal veil.

And the subjects we discussed – a whole world. There was not one issue we avoided. When one of them was exhausted, immediately another emerged, and when that was covered, we found a third and a fourth and a fifth and… like a fountainhead. I think an encyclopedia could be written from all the information we exchanged. I found it very interesting. You said the same. I got used to this daily fax so much, to the excitement of receiving it, to the time passed by answering it. Searching for sources to strengthen my arguments and rationales, learning new things, such as in class in which you choose the topics you are interested in and how much fun it is to study…

And then you asked to meet, and I said it is inadvisable. Why spoil something wonderful? I feared that if our meeting won’t be successful, I could lose you. I would lose the only connection between myself and the outside world, the one not related to work. I have just been through a painful and exhausting divorce, and I moved to a new place, as far as I could from my previous life. Because of the geographical distance, I lost my closest friends, on whose shoulders I could cry in times of distress, to whom I could jump for ‘a casual cup of coffee’, to be together. Talking on the phone, was not the same and a telephonic hug was not enough. Not what I needed. I tried to start my life afresh.

You suggested that we should at least talk on the phone. I accepted, but not easily. I have no idea why. Perhaps because of your magnificent persuasion skills… We set a precise time when you will call. I will forever treasure the day and time in my heart… Friday, nine o’clock. And precisely at the time we agreed upon, the telephone rang and… it seemed to be the beginning of a wonderful conversation.

Part 2 coming up on 20.4.20

Hallucinating words

The Last Summer

Last Summer

The last summer evidently wasn’t a good one for us due to the blazing heat wave it sent, biting down on us with all its might, searing everything. I love the warmth of a heat wave, but this one was sapped all my strength. It wore us out, it whipped us down, it sucked the essence of life from us completely, roasting us alive.

We shared one winter, when we met, and one summer, when we parted, and in the middle – a blossoming spring. A short affair, not satisfying, not what I was looking for at all.

Two ripe women sheltered in a car in the dark, empty street, exploring each other cautiously, searching for affection. The rain is getting stronger, striking hard, shaking everything around. We were not cold and not because of the heating in the car. Aflame from your touch I prayed it would never end. I hoped that you were the one, my Basherte. I imagined us both living under the same roof, our lives flowing with wealth, health and happiness. Forever.

First coffee in the morning, the round sesame bun warmed up by you for me, with tasty, melted chocolate spread on it; the warm, loving hug, the dinner I prepared for us, and in between – the laughs, the small talk, the phone calls between the chores, your work, my work… Life meandered on.

 

Spring in Paris. The city is welcoming us with blooming little flowers, covering the rough pavements. Their intoxicating aroma is floating in the warm air. We stroll around La Rive Gauche. Simone de Beauvoir lived here. She probably walked in these streets, wandered around the coffee shops, sat in them pondering deeply clever thoughts which she turned into words written in important books. The intense enthusiasm you show when telling me about her, your hand around my shoulders. I gaze into your eyes. How much I love you! How long will it last? I wish forever!

 

During the following summer, you wandered around restlessly, clandestinely packing your remnants. There was no hope anymore. What is left to say to each other? Gurnisht. I’m trying to wash your words clean, to remove the stinging salt from them, salted wounds that open again and again, preventing them from healing.

“Where did you put my dongle?” You ask insistently after days of uncomfortable silences.

Since when am I in charge of putting your belongings in order, I ask in my heart, preferring to hide myself in silence, not dignifying you with an answer. Oh, what an appropriate answer I have for you! Go away! Go away! Go!!! Get the hell out of my life!!!

The fireball in the sky glittered intensely, silently burning everything in its path. Between us words were extinguished, never came back. There was no point anymore. The echo of your words… Fine golden sand grinding between my broken teeth, cracking my dry lips.

 

That was the last summer. Afterwards there came an eternal winter, grey-white, blinding, freezing.

 

Last Summer
Last Summer

Hallucinating words

Natalie

Gilbert Bécaud – Nathalie

 

“Hey, life is not so heavy,” whispered the pleasant feminine voice in my ears above the noisy music. I turned my head and stared at her mutely, my heart speeds up its beatings. “Smile a tad,” she flashed her white teeth. My lips stretched a little, but I felt no joy, as I would probably should. It was the first time since my operation at my top body part that I went out to display myself in public and it was not easy. Although the initial pains and difficulties were behind me, but there was still a long way in front of me at the path I have delineated to myself since I came to the decision to unite my body and mind.

And now, a dizzying woman stood in front of me, her eyes inviting me to meet life. I did not dare till now. Hopes and participations filled what I couldn’t call life. Not yet. I was just in the middle of the process of adjusting my body to the woman in me.

“Fancy dancing?” Her hand grasps mine and she drags me after her to the dancing floor. I do fancy, but I’m not sure my legs are capable to do so. Determinedly, she puts my hands on her waist and wraps hers around my nape. The music blows my ears up and both of us move coordinatingly. Her face reaches the décolletage of my dress, her lips fluttering-rubbing the cloth. My nipples react. How could they not… Waves of heat spread in my body.

“Come.” Again, she drags me with her, this time to the floor above. The clicks of our heels are swallowed up by the carpet covering the stairs. She stops for a minute, let go of my hand and removes her shoes. “Surely, the person who invented the heels was not in our favour, us women”, she explicates. I nod agreeably, not daring to do the same, even if I’m not at all comfortably. I never was. The need to be more of a woman than the average one, still urges in me. The need to prove I really am a woman. To whom, really? I know who I am, why do I need to convince others? Well, it is obvious – like each of us, I need approval to my existence. Nobody lives in a bubble.

A bubble. Low music welcomes us, a relief to the ears that experienced the blast at the floor underneath. Sittings are scattered in the dim hall. Shadows budge on the walls. Whisperings. I notice lying bodies, twisting. Desire is in the air.

She drops on a sofa in the corner. I stand rooted in my place; my ogle gaze is pinned to the wall, above her head. Invitingly, she pats on the seat beside her and I force my legs to fold in.

A waitress puts a jar of orange juice and two glasses in front of us. She pours us with a steady hand and leaves. I concentrate in my drink and sip it slowly, trying to calm down the tremble that shakes my soul. My limbs are stiff. I hear her putting her glass and feel her hand patting my arm. I turn to her. Meeting her eyes. So soft. Melting.

“You are so sexy,” she says to me, her voice hoarse. I can’t find my tongue. It was been swallowed in her mouth with a kiss that dazzles my head. Her hands take mine and tighten them to her. I sense her full breast pressed to my palms. A woman. I want to sink into her. Her mouth leaves mine; my fingers direct her lips to my breasts, shaped by a master surgeon. The sensation is amazing. Above and beyond everything I fantasized during the suffering and yearning years. Wow, this woman really wants me! And I want her… But… Again, this familiar but. The fear of the look in her eyes… The surprise… The reluctant… Perhaps even repulsion… What do I need it for? No! I firmly say to myself, pushing away her good intentions. Perhaps someday I’ll find enough courage in me to go all the way. I’m cutting myself off her and stand up. Lucky, I tightened it properly, since the streaming blood in me might revile…

“What’s wrong?” Her wondering eyes sending sparkles at me. It blinds me. I can’t. Not yet. It’s too soon for me. “Hey,” her arms wrap around me, “where are you running to?” Her warm touch settles my fear a little, but the need to bunker inside of me, is stronger. I glance at her a slanted hesitant gaze and turn to flee for my life.

The cool night’s air restores my breath a little. October in Paris. The Eiffel Tower flickers in the distance. Should I take a cab or walk? The shoes are not suitable, but the walking could do me good.

“Running is not helpful,” she again. “I know very well what you are going through. I was also in the place you are in now.” Her eyes cling to mine, not letting me lower them. Her hand on my shoulder is so hot, almost burning the skin. “The anxiety, the hesitations, the fear of the actual transform. And it does not disappear. Just like the scars. A permanent reminder… But the wisdom is to accept and know how to live with it. And the emphasis is on live.”

Excitement flashes my cheeks with crimson. Wow! A woman like me. Who wants me! Who will accept me as I am! “You… I mean… Have you gone through all of it? Everything?” I find my voice for the first time this evening.

A smile rises on her lips, she directs her firm, steady gaze towards me. “Would you like to find out?” Her voice is teasing.

I-do-want-want-want… A yearning is going wild in me. I-do-want-want-want… I let her lead me after her. I-do-want-want-want…

Hallucinating words

London Leaves / Epilogue

The crowd had scattered away
The crowd had scattered away

Novella in several parts (epilogue)

Epilogue

The heavy rain was pouring down massively, as the paramedics made their way between the small crowd, and bent down towards the woman lying there. She was frozen. They could not establish if she was still breathing. They checked her pulse. After a few moments, an unclear beat was pounding vaguely, but they were not sure she could make it. They gazed at each other, wondering: should they try to warm her with some blankets, or with a warm IV[1]?

The crowd had scattered away. People don’t have too much patience these days for others, nor to be in one place to a large extent. Why would they care about a stranger? She was not related to them.

One of the paramedics put her ear close to the anonymous mouth, as no vapours were shown in the freezing air. Nothing. She was to rise and stand up, as she saw the woman’s lips moving. She bent again. “What, love?” she tried hard to hear.

“Ja…z…m…in”, said the stranger with her last breath, whispering. “I…s…ra…e…l…”

[1] Shorten for intravenous

London Leaves / C – We (Us) 4

For ever and more
For ever and more

Novella in several parts (last part is due the coming week)

C

We (Us)

4

At Last

They were standing on the hill overlooking the sea, the magic rustle of the wavelets beneath, float jointly with holy words the Rabba chanted, accompanied by the gathering of people: family members, friends. Two women stood under the silky purple Chupa,[1] getting together for life, for better and best, for health and wealth. A tender breeze glided softly, caressing the excited faces. At last, they came to express their love officially, publicly.

At last. Etta James promised that the lonely days were gone, as she found the dream she could call her own. “At last”, Sara’le sang the words she knew by heart, as she was praying those most of her adult life.

“Mazel Tov[2], Mazel Tov!” People burst in blessing the newly wedded warmly, as the Rabba finished the ceremony with hope the couple will live happily ever after.

Jazmin took Sara’le in her arms and hugged her, holding her tightly, pressing her to her heart. “My wife”, she whispered into her beloved one’s ears, “my woman, for ever and ever.”

“For ever and more”, corrected Sara’le, “and not even one day before.”

[1] Hebrew: canopy (used at Jewish weddings)

[2] Hebrew: Good luck!

London Leaves / C – We (Us) 3

Autumn in London
Autumn in London

 

Novella in several parts (I’ll post the rest in the coming weeks)

C

We (Us)

3

Oh Yes…

 

“I can’t stop loving you, can’t stop…” Jazmin was lying on top of her, murmuring out of exhaustion. “Oh, my love, thank you for coming into my life.”

Sara’le caressed her white curled Kepale[1] gently, pouring her loving emotions into this gesture. Her body was so relaxed, her mind so peaceful. Who would imagine that I would find my soul mate at this period of my life? Certainly not me, even if I wished so. So many years of looking, searching, yearning, longing… So many years… a waste of a lifetime… and now, suddenly, she is here, in my bed, in my arms. So nice to hold her. Her skin so smooth, silky, tender… My woman.

OMG!!! I’ve never felt this way before! So deep, so intense! Jazmin gazed at her lovingly. This is my woman, she said to herself mutely. A surge of pride filled her at the sight of her lush beloved. My woman… Sooooooo sexy!

Three months have passed since that horrible day. She was so devoted, sat patiently at my bed in the hospital, day after day, from morning to night, fed me, bathed me, talked to me, making me laugh, trying to lift my spirits, being there for me, being my guardian angel. My sweet woman.

What is she thinking about? She seems to immerge into a deep world of her own. I hope she’ll let me in, as she allowed me to be with her. Lovely Jazmin…

My ticket is due for another month, and then – I don’t know if she will have me. She was very kind to host me when I checked out of the hospital. I could change the date and go back then, but she took me under her wings and didn’t want to hear anything about me going back. I love this woman, I fell in love with her from the moment I laid eyes on her there, at the JGLG, when she came and introduced herself to me. I love this woman…

[1] Yiddish: head

London Leaves / C – We (Us) 2

Calm round moon
Calm round moon

 

Novella in several parts (I’ll post the rest in the coming weeks)

C

We (Us)

2

Or Not…

 

The annoying ringing of the phone awoke her from the nap she was taking after her treatment. She woke up that morning, the gloomy weather causing her pain in her bones. Coming from a warm welcoming country, she hated this damp climate, the cold, chilly, wintry, apathetic people, the illnesses this reserved bloody kingdom caused her.

Slowly, she dragged her bare feet on the warm wooden floor. Oh, my G-d! my hair is a mess! She lamented when she saw her image in the mirror in the entrance hall, lifting quickly her hand to sort it out a bit. “Nu, sha! Sha!” She protested, “I’m coming! I’M COMING!!!” I wish, she murmured to the walls, I really wish.

“Lady Sarah?” A formal voice enquired.

Uh? This doesn’t sound good. “Speaking.” Not so fluently, as I’m not quite awake yet, but I am able to emit some syllables, also comprehend, if it’s not to heavy an issue… This sounds heavy, though.

“Do you know a person by the name of Jazmin?”

The thunder exploded all over, causing the windows to shudder, this was nothing compared to the tremor which grasped her tightly. The phone fell from her quivering hand. Jazmin?

“Y… ye-s…” The surprised syllables barely left her mouth. She remembered how Jazmin came to her later that evening, asking her when she will have the time to show her around the city, her eyes beseeching her. Her busy schedule couldn’t allow her to respond immediately, so she asked Jazmin to call her. As the call didn’t come, she assumed the Pishwoman did it, so her services were no longer required.

“This is the emergency of St. George’s Hospital, we’ve found your business card in her handbag. How do you know this person?”

HOSPITAL??? “W… wh… wh-at?”

“Are you a relative?”

She forced herself to be businesslike, practical: “Well, I’m not a relative, but I’m not quite sure she has relatives in London. As far as I know, she was staying with a friend.”

“Do you know that friend’s name or her number, perhaps?”

Do I know? The Pishwoman… that’s all I know, but I can’t tell him that… “What happened? Is she all right?” nu, well, apparently not, if they are calling from the hospital…

“She was brought here a couple of hours ago. Can you come to here? I think it would be helpful if you came over.”

A couple of hours ago? What was I doing then? OMG-OMG-OMG! She is in the hospital! OMG! Oh, no! STOP-STOP-STOP! I must stop wandering around, wringing my hands and cracking my knuckles. I must focus. Where did he say the hospital is? She studied the note, where she wrote down the details he gave her. It’s in London, a bit of a schlep[1], but never mind. I hope she is not too bad.

 

Dark… Soooooooo dark… Where am I? She could hear weak noises, as if they where coming from very far. Someone or something was moving near her, a silhouette, very blurry, she couldn’t figure out what it was, but somehow it brought her some comfort. She sunk again into her darkness.

 

I think I saw her eyes blink. Should I call a nurse? I’m not sure what I should do. I’m sitting here since noon. I should go home soon. Need to eat, not mentioning also to rest. At least I got Jane to feed the cats. She seems so calm in her deep sleep. I hope she will be better in the morning. She probably needs rest. Who knows what happened to her? They said she was found lying on the pavement. Nobody could say for how long, but apparently, it was long enough to be frozen. November, it’s freezing outside. Poor Jazmin… It’s weird she had my card. What about the Pishwoman? Should I bother to look for her? Maybe at the JGLG somebody would have her number. Or not…

[1]  Yiddish: a drag