Singing Snowberg
Chapter Six
Olympic <3>
Sunder leaves her seat, maybe I should join her onto the dance floor. She looked skinny among the crowd, she doesn’t care how they see her, just dancing with her both arms upwards. I’m sweating madly, the crowd, the temperature. This bar has a real good name, the imagined disease. We’re all sick, if we’re thinking we’ll go back to normal the next day, that’s an imagined disease; only at this place we’re normal, and could be truly ourselves. So I’m in, to become one of them. We dance in the smell of sweat, smiling at each other in the temporary happiness. She leans her head into my chest, hands clutch at my shoulders, suddenly I don’t know where to place my arms. I can feel she’s breathing fast, our desires are mingling into a strange form just like the way we dance. Every move is unexpected, felt like dancing in the water, too much hindrance that we always change the directions of our steps in the middle of the moves.
We drank more under the hot light, cocktails are not enough to make me hammered if I go to the toilet very often, but for this girl..., “You know? There’s always a guy escorting me back....” “You already said it.” “But I....” “Let’s go home.”
We took a bus back to the research station, and I escorted her to her room, X1015, first floor, I’ll remember. She smells really good, reminds me of a large reeds field, sometimes strong other times weak; while Salix’s reminds me of the mild wind in the drizzle, humid, tastes salty.
She’s talking off her clothes. “I like men, actually.” She doesn’t stop, “only men?” After I confirmed she takes out a rubber stick, “try it on me.” I followed.
“Not even a kiss? No? Ah... deeper. I won’t love you, what’s the mat... oh, good you’re talented.” I’m amused, trying to change the style of my work. “Have somebody taught you, em... I enjoy it, maybe we could be friends ahh... slower please.” She’s like a puppet reacts to my every move, there’s a kind of masculinity in her way that turns me on. She catched my lips before she has the orgasm. “Em... I... I can’t you... hahaha....”
She’s riding on me, sexual secretion dotted on my pants, “how do you feel?” “I... I’m okay. I just never experienced that.” “Then help me again.”
This should be right, we’re not actually having sex. But it feels good, just like how I felt when I was looking at the sleeping Salix. A distance not too close and not too far, seeing them in peace or utter happiness is one same thing, because you feel happy for them, even start to envy.
Back to my own room I feel unexceptionally good, this is my own place, a shelter. The person who hates his room hates himself, I should realise that earlier.
The second day off the job, I started to get my things in order. Where to start, the clothes. Except that shirt in the bag and our pillow, every piece of cloth needs cleaning. I put them in the bathtub, poured some laundry liquid, half an hour later I stepped inside the tub, stamped on these dirty clothes with my feet, the water turned into the colour of milky grey in a short time. It looks fun at first, but I got tired very soon, and the muscles were screaming for resting. Second the dust, and the setting of the cell, and the last, me.
When I finally sit on the newly made bed, it’s 9 o’clock. I forgot to water the blue flower, yes I like to call it blue flower. And I’m starving, a bag of fast noodles is super expensive, eight hundred Credits, as expensive as what I’m eating, a genuine chocolate bar. We kept this one untouched last time, I could remember what he said, “we don’t share this one, it’s yours.” And what I replied, “since it’s mine, I decided to share with you, but not today.” I can even remember his eyes when he heard me saying this, total happiness, as I’m feeling right now, as the chocolate gives me a love feeling, as I have to eat it to recall that feeling.
There’s a thing, it’s called “stubborn”, sometimes I have it, sometimes don’t, but now I do, these days I do. Sometimes the stubborn is stronger than loneliness, and I’m squarely in this period. It ties my feet and hands, I should’ve said “thank you” to Devo but I never did so. The snacks he gave were placed in a beautiful glass can, I haven’t eat any of them. I need an excuse to accept his help. Maybe it’s not time. Then what should I do? Close the light and sleep? No. The night is long. Write to him, he’s waiting your letter. This is the second last resort before the sleeping, I’m marvelled at my stupidity to write to him until I have to or couldn’t bear to write to him, yes I’m so desperate, I need to talk to him.