Speed dating in New York city. The man and the girl made of air
— … I'm leaving you, tonight.
The bell had rung a while ago. She had looked at him like she knew him forever. She didn't introduced herself, didn't even say hello. Then she had begun to talk.
Dot dot dot, I'm leaving you, tonight. There they were.
— I had heard this line in a song an hour before. Without it, I think that I wouldn't have left him. Strange, right? I mean, I had no intention of leaving him.
He was barely listening, and decided that she wasn't desirable. Too many barriers to reach her skin. Pendants, bracelets, overlaid, knotted fabrics, scents from perfumes he couldn't name, sharp rings, leather straps.
The shape of her breasts was hard to picture.
She was still talking.
— But it was as if I had to tell him these words: I'm leaving you, tonight. Crazy, right ?
He simply said yes.
Did she have little breasts that could fit in the hand, or heavy breasts that sagged a little? He preferred these ones. Because he could subtract them from the forces of attraction.
— The look on his face! She said. I will never forget it. But I said it again: I'm leaving you, tonight. I couldn't help myself.
No heart to be protected. No breast at all. She was a mass made of air, who dressed too showy so that she would stand out in public.
— I thought he was going to die.
She had a slight smile, which she quickly wiped away.
— A stupid song.
She shook her head.
No stomach, no genitals. A face made of air. Nothing to grab on.
— I never heard this song after that, she said.
Had she ever even heard it? He didn't ask. He decided to remain silent, out of solidarity for mankind.
To break the silence, she began to hum.
Translation : Jérémy Boodoo