Resurrections

She learned to live with mechanical precision. Each day dragging into the next, in the grand picture she was a speck of dust floating, unheard and unheeded by the universe. In her family picture she stood in the middle, gaze fixed on the camera, a wide smile.

To her she had always been a swimmer, in life’s murky waters, everything had an end.

The weekdays, holding breath under water, 1,2,3,4,5…. Then up to the surface, gasping for air

On the weekend she would become whoever she wanted, the woman searching for a nice flat on the banana island, particularly interested in a beautiful kitchen, telling realtors about her Italian boyfriend’s obsession with oregano. Then she was pregnant woman, the only child searching for love telling drunken strangers about her father who never returned, the banker about to lose her job, the upcoming actress willing to do anything for her big break.

She was all these women in quick succession, one weekend after the other, never fearing insanity. For the weekend, life was a book with blank sheets and she held the pen, treasuring each second in the company of strangers before disappearing, never exchanging contacts. There were 7 billion strangers in the world and not enough lies.

This weekend she was the hotel manager who fucked the owner. She was 21 again, her twist out falling down her neck as she told of Fridays at the hotel penthouse, licking her red lips as she gave details, his large palms, his warm tongue in her. He wasn’t happily married of course, a wife was just something of necessity even if it had been 35 years. She had no regrets, she performed resurrections and enjoyed being his savior. She told how he sounded most alive during orgasms.

Her drunken companion today had a deep northern accent, he talked about living most of his life according to God’s script, believed he was determinism’s little puppet. Today he just wanted volition, the ninth bottle, and his hand around a strange woman’s waist. The ring on his left rubbing against her dark skin. This weekend none of them would care.

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