Fiction

Loneliness

Photo Credit: Kristaps Bergfelds. CC-BY.
Photo Credit: Kristaps Bergfelds. CC-BY.

Her look of a child who has done something wrong begged me to stay a little longer. I put on my pants, buckled belt and until I was looking under the bed, searching for socks, I whispered indifferently:

-I have to go…

She raised herself into a sitting position and propped on a pillow. Reached for the pack of cigarettes which stood on the table and light one. She didn’t even cover her little peaked breasts.

-You can stay if you want?

I kept silent. Hurried to get dressed as soon as possible. She looked at me from head to toe, and after a short pause, helplessly said:

-Blond… you will wake up as old man one morning… and you’ll be all alone in bed… do you ever think about that?

I remain silent. Her eyes were persistent. While I was binding shoelaces and staring at them, I said quietly:

-Yes, often. You will also wake up as old woman one day, in this huge house, the silk bed, next to him who will be still handsome and successful…

She frowned.

– … and you will be alone in the bed. You will be all alone.

I put keys in my pocket and headed for the door.

-Hey, Blond…

Holding on to the door handle, I turned for the moment, and our eyes met for the last time:

-…fuck you.