Worm-infested cherries part 3.
By Biljana Malesevic
I woke up to the light of day,
which came through the tall windows of the foyer, and waited for someone to
open a disco and let me escape, which happened later that afternoon. I managed
to escape unnoticed, stumbling through the snow, cold and starving, walking in
my little black dress a few miles to my apartment, while passersby looked at me
and talked about today's awful youth.
Of course I loved my life as it
was and did not want anything to change. I chose and organised my life as I was
privileged enough to be able to do that. The problem was that since that night
in the disco I could not unsee some things that I haven’t noticed before. Like in
those riddle pictures where you need to find the hidden dolphin, but once you find
it, you can no longer unsee it. I slept the whole day, then whole week, trying
not to think too much, not to look out the window and not to analyse things I
knew. I was convincing myself that I wasn’t hungry when I was messing with food
on the plate. The less I know, I reasoned, I'll be happier. On Monday, about
half past eight o'clock in the morning, I was going to work with poor
confidence, dressed as always, ready to continue life where it left off.
I noticed them immediately, two
of them in familiar, expensive, silvery-grey suits coming out of the still
unopened shopping centre "m" in the city centre. In a hurry and
armed with briefcases, they passed right in front of me and marched into a
parked black "Lexus". I covered my nose and mouth with a
handkerchief, as if I'm going to sneeze, almost unconsciously trying to hide, so
they don’t notice me. I've never before noticed the men in silvery-grey suits,
but from that night in the disco I began to see them everywhere. Coming out of
hypermarkets in early mornings, before the opening, entering markets after the
the centre is closed, marching in hurry into bars and restaurants outside of
working hours… it seemed they are everywhere. It’s disturbing to think how
these people are messing with our food and drinks. My job wasn’t difficult, so
I was just spending hours avoiding conflicts or serious work, as usual.
Weekends were the worst. I would spent hours getting ready to go out to finally
give up and go to sleep.
A few weeks passed in that manner,
I was sitting in front of the mirror, starring at my face and trying to
convince myself that I'm not dead, and that these creatures in grey suits were
not some fallen angels who will escort me to purgatory and prepare me for hell.
I started laughing at reflection of my suffering stare, my face which without
makeup looked haggard and older than it really was, and I reached for a bottle
of whiskey. Almost without thinking, I poured two fingers in a glass and brought
it to my lips. Whiskey for promiscuity? Vodka for promiscuity? What is beer for?
Brandy? Food? Cosmetics? Anything? I could not drink that stuff anymore. I felt
nauseous, my stomach knotted and I vomited on the bathroom floor before I
managed to get to the toilet bowl. The men in grey suits weren’t only dolphins
in the image. Ordinary people on the streets that I normally didn’t even notice,
now had noticeably tired faces, which look of obvious apathy, lethargy and
defeat. Young people looked aggressive, their fists clenched, faces scrunched,
like they are going to attack. It felt like I was in a movie about paranoia.
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