Series 1: That Night, His Bodily Fluids Sprayed All Over Me

2006/2/7 17:55:55

I

Wind, blowing in from the sea; a ship, tossing on the waves. The city across the sea, flickering in and out of sight. This northeastern port, the wind off the sea, exuding a primal allure. Life, seducing the ocean; the ocean, giving life to the primal. The primal scent—lurking, surging, living. Life like the wind, emanating, the sky azure.

Cities are always tedious. Cities have their own faces. The faces in the city, each different, yet always a city. That five-star hotel with the mysterious name—everything in the room bears only the tedium of the city. Tedium is always a name.

Outside the window, the city stands in unfamiliarity. The scent of the sea dulls into a thin evening haze, veiling the small sky.

The telephone rang. His voice drifted through the electromagnetic waves, sounding extraordinarily urban:

"You're here? Busy right now. See you tonight—let's have dinner!"

Languidly leaning against the still-soft pillow, the pale mist from a Panda cigarette curling between the fingers. The blue of the seawater swayed intermittently through the smoke. That primal briny scent came and went amid the tobacco's entanglement, stirring the primal in life. Seaweed swaying, fish losing their way along the swaying trajectories, blowing white bubbles, one by one, bursting in the blue. The scent of the ocean stirred in blue.

The telephone rang again. The electromagnetic waves sliced through that expanse of azure, flashing with an eerie light:

"I'm in the car. Dinner at the hotel or outside?"

"Either is fine."

Outside, the city had grown weary, its eyes swaying. The room, too, swayed in the dimness. Congealed lamplight dissolved in milky white, flowing, exuding the city's scent, slipping into a haze of smoke.

(To be continued)