Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Vignette: Desire

She was wondering what she was doing in this tiny room with the mirrors, but before she could do anything about her surroundings, he came over and kissed her.

It was quite a mechanical kiss, she thought to herself, immediately slipping into the role of a lover. It was the first time she actually felt beyond her body, her eyes focusing on the dance of skin on skin reflected on the mirror, the almost automatic way clothes were shed, the fumbling moments of almost-ecstasy. He was so silent, so quiet, that she wondered if he was even breathing.

She wished she could just escape. She didn't imagine sex to be so robotic, so devoid of need. She was waiting for someone to just press a button, to let everything go. Somehow, the mirrors stared at her, the two bodies on the glass a show a million miles away. Everything seemed so distant, separated by invisible walls. She pretended to come, just to remove his weight off her. She thought of her ex-boyfriend, who had left her for another man. At least he was kind. He was always kind, even when he was breaking her heart. Maybe that was why she forgave him - she could always forgive kindness.

He trotted off to the bathroom while she pretended to be seductive by swirling the blankets around her body and flicking the channels. He stepped outside for a smoke. It only took her a second to decide. When he came back, she was already dressed, sitting primly on the edge of the bed. Why have you changed? he asked. She shook her head. No more. He was draped only in a small towel that barely concealed his body. He could have been beautiful, she could have wanted him, but not like this. The TV buzzed with a new show, and his attention moved from her to the small box.

When she stepped into the tiny blue-chipped bathroom that smelled of Glade and stale air, she realized she was bleeding. Grimly, she wiped herself with wads of tissue paper, a part of her frightened at the thought - there it goes, she thought as she pressed the flush, watching the crimson pieces of tissue swirl down the drain. Broken for the first time, and in a sleazy motel room with a man who smelled of soap and cigarette smoke. She wished it was easier than this.

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