“It feels oppressive and sticky.”
Said Laura Shaffer, a 30-year-old from Manhattan. She was describing the
weather, although out of context, the words could easily have a different
interpretation. Heat is engulfing the US, fagocyting its cities, drowning its
small towns. The voice says:
“You are silent.”
To which I reply nothing, for I am indeed silent.
“I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did”
“I hear so many people from where you come from chanting things like
“Fuck America”, you ought to be happy: You fucked an American citizen and
that citizen liked it.”
The bodies embraced some more. My mind wandered to another room, one
I almost forgot the geography of. How treacherous the mind can be. I know
there are two parallel beds and one that’s perpendicular to them creating
some sort of alley to walk through. I am not sure if I locked the shutters
or not. I try to remember which of my very shirts I left behind. One is a
Moschino and the other is a Kickers – both of them with cufflinks. All my
cufflinks, which are more numerous than the shirts are still there (Moschino
pepper-shaped, Kenzo panting brushed ones, and Paul Smith rounded ones).
My thought shift diagonally to a CNN.com statistic which indicates that
263581 people think that the Israeli military response inside Lebanon is justi-
fied (52%). 242119 disagree (That’s 48%). The latter number reminds me of
Lebanon’s six digit telephone numbers. A friend of mine has a number that
starts with 242 – our old landline number comes back to my mind as well:
323699. Isn’t 323 some sort of a derivative of 242? The anus contracts one
more time, it doesn’t feel oppressive or sticky.
“I think that it’s a precursor of what we could be experiencing on a daily
basis if we don’t do something about global warming.”
Right now, the only warming I craved pulled itself onto me (And me into it)
one more time.