Thanks Milagros

Thanks Milagros

He didn’t know for sure why he had come to her room with out asking. But knew that she would be there, also he knew that he had no idea of what to say. He sat down on the only chair. Just so, his back against the wall, nearly abandoned to the preoccupation that resulted from a conversation with a woman. He had, of course, had a lot of encounters with this woman, but this time he had taken the liberty to come with out asking.

He quickly got a cigarette from the baggie pants he always wore and lit it. Knowing this would upset her. Thinking that if she got upset everything would go smoother. Precipitating a fight was the surest way to establish a conversation that would lead to something superfluous.

He heard the rumor of running water… it was time for the bath. He dislike the idea of having to wait, but that right now seemed like a small matter. He was there.

He tilted the chair a bit. The object emitted an awful sound, splitting the dark and almost impersonal space. This could also be due to his penetration of it. He arched his back and got what was looking for. In that position he could, from an opening between the door and the wall, in a some what uncomfortable position, see the precise moment when she would get out of the shower.

Slowly the sound of the running water began to diminish. A sensation of embarrassment got stuck between his chest and mouth… and for a second he realized what he was doing. The feeling of guilt and self repugnance switched to a slight sensation of desire.

He got aware of how she emerged from behind the iron door of the bath room. A small and white foot came out from the darkness inside. She had forgotten her bath shoes… and this sounded like morbid complicity. He observed, trying to stay perfectly still, how she took out slowly –with a care that he thought of as clumsy- her leg covered up from the nee with a heavy blue towel.

He tried to control his respiration, but this made his exhalations even louder. In contrast she seemed unconcerned. He saw her when she got back to the bathroom to look for something… it was her bathroom soap. She was always reminding him that it was a waste to live it there for others to use.

He tried to smell the air that came rushing in throw the small opening of the door… the air brought a smell of softener… it was a cheep soap… but the sensation of cleanness reminded him of how good she always had smelled. He focused his sight till he has able to observe every drop of water that graved her soft and smooth skin. He inhaled again… for a long moment he seemed to found pleasure in denying himself respiration. His tong made contact with the opening of his larynx and this action emitted a roming, even wet sound. A sound that is not made with the tong, but with the throat… that which sounds like a moan of pleasure.

She walked like her mind was made up to her room and he experimented again a sense of self repugnance that he had felt before. In a leap he got up and stared in a non natural way at the wall. He noticed that she had been looking for something just before she went to the bathroom, because her desk was in complete disarray. This was completely unnatural for her. Everything was thrown about, and he found himself grateful that there was something on which he could center his attention. An obvious and stupid excuse, transparent even. She new him very well and would inevitably know that this was an excuse to avoid confrontation.

She entered the room with complete absent mind ness, whit out noticing the open door. This kind of forgetfulness (she must have remember she didn´t leave her door opened) was a constant in her. And he liked this trait more than any other tacit bargain between them. He had avoided many problems by this faculty of hers: “ Premature and insolent forgetfulness”

- would you have preferred if I didn´t talked to you? – she asked, with out looking at him, with out parting her view from the closet that was in front of her. He had seen now, in all its roughness, what he had secretly been obsessing about for a long time. She was vulnerable… and her image hit against every part of his mind saturating his senses. The towel covered half her frame. And her tainted hear lied undone in the extent of her uncovered back. Her back was bided by glistening droplets. In this moment he realized that her body was not perfect… this mean that there had to be something else that attracted him to this physical act.

- No. I would have hoped you said something different. – he said clumsily as he moved back towards the window. That window that allowed, throw an opaque glass, to see onto the garden where the bathroom was.

She didn´t answer. And with one hand undid the noose holding the towel in place. The heavy blue towel, which was raped tightly around her body, fell to the floor with a damped sound. He heard that sound, and had to exhale strongly. He looked between his fingers for the lit cigarette but found nothing but nicotine stained fingers. He found with the corner of his eye the cigarette butt flattened and with out life underneath the legs of the chair, which still stood by the door.

When he finally turned his head he shivered at her terrible nakedness… one of her arms was placed over her breast. She had not yet turned to him and was still facing the closet. Her contour seemed to explode from the inside of her being. The curve line was always projected into the artificial space that seemed to cling to her hips. Time elongated… Something had to happen before the hole scene became so embarrassing that they had to go back.

He got close, trying to hold his breath as long as possible… all that was possible, even if with every breath it was going more and more out of his control. His hart was galloping on his brow and a dim heat, that in other circumstances he would have found embarrassing, ignited in his groin. Ants… a few thousands of ants gathered on his scrotum giving him warning.

She turned her head, in a way that reminded “a computerized altered fashion of porno mags.” The side of her head was, in his perception, something perfect. The straightness of her nose seemed to invite an erection. And he, surely today, unlike other days, would not fight it.

When at last he got so close to her that he could feel the heaviness of her breath, he noticed she had something squished in her fist. But it was too late to think twice about it or ask for explanations. “In Any case, what would she take to the bathroom with her?”

- what are you doing? – she asked trying to begin the courtship… he despised those games… but she couldn’t have known that… it was the first time they were going to be together.

He felt her body pressed against his. He felt the pressure against his genitals, ready to free themselves from the oppression of clothing.

She felt how he slid his left hand underneath her arm. She noticed a slight tremble in his hands… a mix of fear and excitement… This made her grin, she liked to make this kind of impact in her lovers.

He inhaled like an animal over her shoulder. He let the tip of his nose touch her skin, slowly… at last she turn all of her body to face him. For a second he felt against his clothes the exuberant heat that emanated from her wet skin. She opened her mouth… slim, small and begging. He decided to make it wait… he felt it in his gut…

He let his arms fall from her shoulders down throw her back and down to the small part of her hips… He felt the need to take the very last breath out of her. And she was holding him, but he felt she was still holding her hand in a fist.

With his left hand he graved the end of her naked, rounded buttocks. With the front of his index finger he lined the union of her butt chicks… Something he had learn from his own experience. To the left the right one came together and he lifted her letting her feel all his manliness. She let out a little, almost inaudible moan when her feet left the ground. But managed to wrap her legs around his hips, to participate of the abandonment of the moment. She felt he wasn’t going to tolerate her not participating.

She scratched her back… he noticed that she had at last opened up her fist. And felt grateful. A moment past by and he felt her pants fall to his ankles… had it been her who had undone them?

He felt a hard, deep, long, pain when he got inside her.

---------

He lit another cigarette… he knew she wasn’t going to complain now. He rouse from the bed and placed his feet over the cold floor still sitting on it. Rose again and was on his feet walking around on her room. The memory of the disorganized desk came back to him. Like something subconscious.

What had she been looking for? He Meditated on this for a moment, while his eyes wondered throw a room that seemed some how “lived in” now… “At last” she had said the day he finally touch her this came back together with the thing with the desk.

His sight wondered some more, till something on the floor near the closet couth his eye. It was a small wrinkled photograph…

He picked it up from the floor and smoothed it out. His expression changed… the one that up until a few moments ago had been of pleasure now turned to anger. Or sadness… In the picture he found the face of another man.

It was at that moment he realized that the “At last” hadn’t been meant for him. It was and will always be for someone else.

With a heavy hand he shock her awake. She turned, taking one of her hands to the back of her head, for support…

- Thanks Milagros… - he said. And continued: - But I know I will never be “him” I don’t intend to fight a ghost.


-----------





Note: Milagros in Spanish translates into Miracles. And it was with this intention or meaning that I named her this way.