Creative Writing

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

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

London Leaves / C – We (Us) 1

Garden of flowers
Garden of flowers

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

C

We (Us)

1

“Ma…”

Heavy pouring rain. She wandered through the streets of London like a wet lonely cat, schlepping her belongings with the last ounce of energy left in her. Her clothes were all soaked. Her shocked, gloomy face, was struggling hard to restrain her agony from bursting into a long wounded howl. She stopped, unable to move further. Her legs couldn’t endure the weight of what she was carrying anymore – both herself, loaded with suppressed emotions, and her stuff, hanging from all over her. Her arms were burning out of pain, craving for rest. Submitting to despair, she didn’t care to park her wet bottom on the freezing low stone fence. The rain was flowing silently, cutting through the thick deep smog.

Not letting out the meowing she felt inside, was very hard. She wanted to curl up into a warm lap, but not the one she left half an hour ago, and stay there forever. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do… Her bewildered mind was tormented. What should I do? What should I do? A few pupils passed her, hurrying to get to school on time. Cars went by, their motors roaring, leaving a trail of smoke. She detained her breath, trying to impede pollution from harming her. Nu, what should I do?

A deafening thunder pierced her spine, causing her whole body to shiver. The street was now empty. Nobody sane would stick their nose out of their warm, cozy home. Oh, home… I miss home sooooooo much! What possessed me to leave home and come to this insane horrible sick woman? What did she think, that somebody could actually fall for her? Nu, well, I suppose there could be someone who would seek this sick kind of relationship. I don’t think they are capable of loving, really loving. They are occupied with causing each other pain and misery, how could they feel love for each other? This is not the love I need. I want rapport, affinity, bonding. I need to feel wrapped with love by the woman I will love back with all of my heart, to melt to her touch, to…

Another earsplitting thunder extracted her from her thoughts. The rain was pouring cats and dogs. A black cab stopped near her. The taxi driver rolled the window down a bit, not daring to stick his head out. “Hey, love”, he yelled in a loud voice, “are you all right?”

She blinked surprisingly. Am I all right? Yeah, right – sitting on this freezing stone, my butt could be served as an ice-cream, I’m soggy duch and duch,[1] deep into my bone marrow, I don’t know what to do, as I mindlessly collected my unpacked luggage to rush away her, I’m even quite sure where I am. I know I headed to the train station she showed me once, but didn’t get there. I don’t think I ever was in this neighbourhood before. I’m not such a good navigator, to say the least…

“Well, lady, where do you need to go?”

Where do I need to go? Home, I guess. But home is so far away, 8,047 kilometres, or 5000 miles, as they measure here, how can I get there? I have no English money. A mazel[2] I have some in shekels. I suppose I would be able to exchange in a bank. Although I could, I had no intention to take the notes she scattered around her house, in prominent places. I guess I’m not the first to run away from her, so she was “generous” to assist… Nu, well, a woman with so many lovers behind her, having their bleeding scalps hanging from her belt, probably should predict future events. No, I didn’t take her money. I hope she suffocates with on it. Damn P.

Without thinking, she opened the back door of the cab, throwing in her plastic bags. The driver didn’t move an inch to assist her. Probably it wasn’t in his job description. He just moved the handle of the trunk, so she could put in her trolley and the other four over packed bags. Feeling relieved, she closed the trunk’s door, glancing around, hoping the rain will stop already. She was heading to the passenger’s door, thinking she could use a brake of these showers pouring on her, as the driver quickly slammed the back door and fled with his brakes squealing.

“Ma…”[3] The word didn’t even pass her lips. She remained standing there, unable to move her gaze affixed to the spot where the cab disappeared.

[1] Yiddish: Thru and through

[2] Yiddish: I’m luckily

[3] Hebrew: “What…”

London Leaves / B – Jazmin

Stones of hope
Stones of hope

 

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

B

Jazmin

 

Nice of her to take me to this meeting. It’s interesting to attend such a ceremony. At home, I would never dream of doing that, but it’s an opportunity to meet other people, and maybe, if I’m lucky, I will find love… I needed so much to get out of there, to breath fresh air, see another country, other people and open myself to the world. I have been alone for such a long time. She came into my life at the right time. Alas she wasn’t the right woman…

It is nice here. The Rabba is holding a lovely ceremony. One can feel the holiness in the air. Shabbat is Shabbat, even in London, so far away from home. I miss home. Yes, already. How would I cope with being here for so long, as she planned for me? She likes to control. I have no issue with it. I came here for the British passport, nothing else. I never told her I loved her. She asked me a few times how I feel towards her, why don’t I say these words to her. As if one is obliged to do so after being showered with these words continuously and so persistently. I always answered I’m not sure, as it isn’t my nature to fall in love with a picture, not even with one that moves, such as on Messenger. She declared her love to me and invited me to come and live with her. London is a good place to vent a lonely soul, I thought, and the G-ddess all mighty knew how much I needed to get out of this pressure cooker called Israel. The 2nd Lebanon war just ended and I felt I needed a big brake. I’ve never been abroad before, so it was an opportunity to travel and see the world, as she promised to take me wherever I would like to.

The Rabba started a prayer in honour of the people who died of AIDS, then she invited people to share, to talk about their loved ones they lost to this horrible disease. Thank the G-ddess, I didn’t lose anybody, also I don’t know people who suffered such a loss. Hope I will never know this bitter taste.

P went to say hello to some friends, so she said. I wondered how come she didn’t bring them to meet me. Weird. This P woman is weird. I can’t figure her out yet, but my little voice is telling me she definitely is not the one for me. I can do much better. I didn’t like her looks on the internet, let alone when we met in person. She’s a year younger than me, but looks much older. Not that I use to fall for the looks, but there must be something basic, like taking care of yourself. If you don’t look like my lovely, the ultimate Farrah Fawcett, at least do something with yourself: have your face lift, hair done, dress properly – not with schmates, like she does. I wonder how she allowed herself to buy me the ticket, when she is so cheap on herself.

Someone shared, causing each eye to tear. I wiped mine. There must be chemistry between two people, otherwise it’s not it. She didn’t appeal to me at all. I couldn’t connect to her inner soul, which is crucial for me. She is illusive, unstable, someone I couldn’t bond with. Bonding is essential for me. I don’t want to be with a woman I can’t bare my soul to. She is not the one. Definitely. However, she will do for my goals. Once we get married, I’ll have this civil partnership, I can do whatever I want too. I can work, have some savings, and in a few years get the British passport. In the meantime, she promised to support me with the tuition money, as I expressed my wish to study at the university. 5 years is a long time, I’d better get a degree if I can, why not?

Where did she disappear? Never mind her. I think I’ll go have something to eat. They displayed nice food here. I’m hungry. Maybe I’ll meet nice people to befriend.

“Hello.” I looked at the lush sexy woman standing in front of me, her hesitating smile so lovely. A large wave of joy flooded my whole body, from head to toe.

Gratefully, I beamed, hoped my grin was inviting. “Hi”, I answered. She is sooooooo-sooooooo charming, wow! My heart stopped it’s beating, my breath shortened. Wow! To be honest, I never met such a big woman in my whole life. She stood there, her lovely lips curved with a shy smile, capturing my heart. I knew instantly that SHE is the right woman for me. But I couldn’t do anything, as I promised P to be with her. I never break my promises.

The gorgeous woman in front of me gazed through me. I didn’t think to interrupt her in her meditation. When she finally landed, I expressed my hope she was in a good place, even if here is also nice. I was being playful, didn’t mean to get serious.

The lovely woman seemed as if she was pulled out of thoughtland. “Oh, yes, oh, so sorry”, she hurried to apologize and added: “I didn’t mean to…” What didn’t she mean? I don’t know. The woman caused my head to spin, I felt dizzy. In the background, other people shared, but their words became just fading noises. I was mesmerized by her flaming gaze. I shouldn’t stare, it’s not polite, but I can’t help it, she definitely had something in her that was sooooooo appealing. Amazing. I wished I never met P. Had we met just two months earlier, it could make the difference. Only two months! I was waiting for this fabulous woman for sooooooo looooooonnnnnnnggggggg. So-so long. Why couldn’t she come earlier? Just my rotten luck, unlucky me.

I assured her there’s no need to apologize. I can understand people have dreams. I also tend to do so.

“I’m Sarah”, she introduced herself.

“Jazmin”, I answered. Should I reach to shake her hand? What are the correct manners here?

“I hope that you won’t find it rude, but your accent, seems to be east European. May I ask where are you from?” The marvellous woman showed her interest in me, or maybe she was just small-talking? The English are known of that quality.

Proudly, I answered: “I’m from Israel, the Jews’ homeland.” Why did I add the last three words? I really have no idea. When I am excited, my mouth does speak by itself, without allowing me control over the words I should or should not sprout. This woman caused me excitement, no doubt about it. Hidden senses, I had suppressed a long time ago with no hope of feeling, started bubbling deep-deep in me. I think it was the first time in my whole life that I felt I actually have a heart. Until then, it was merely a pump, keeping me alive, not more.

“Oh, how nice!” Her face were a mixture of surprise and wonder. I wondered if I was her first Israeli… “Did you see the city already?” She continued to enquire.

“No, I haven’t managed to do that yet, as I just came here last Sunday”, I explained. I wish she would offer to show me the city.

The woman must be reading my mind… “Oh, I see. Would you like to get together and have a coffee someday?”

Some day? What does she mean by that? Why not tomorrow, maximum the day after tomorrow? When is this ‘some day’? I couldn’t restrain my joy though. My lips widened in a big smile. “Yes, I would love to, very much.” Do I sound eager enough? I was going to ask her when is convenient for her to meet, when P appeared from wherever she was, clinging to me, enclosing her gaunt arms around me, declaring her ownership. I don’t like her touch. It repels me. She does. In front of the lady of my dreams, she blurted out demandingly: “Hey, who are you talking to?”

“This is Sarah,” I answered reluctantly, moving myself away from her grasp. Then, I turned to my real lady: “Sarah, this is P.”

I could sense the tension. P was clenching her jaws together in a motion I never saw before, but nonetheless it did not proclaim good tidings. Her expression said she is not allowing anybody to enter her territory. I was the property she was going to defend. Sarah excused herself and fled for her life. I can’t blame her, P looked quite scary.

“I see you are socializing.” The words flew from her twisted mouth, her face deforming mockingly. She didn’t even smile.