Two Women Over Three Days

Jan asked me about opium and I only hit the main points, the 21st century American points, the kind where dry trees explode and sons and daughters move into closets

I didn’t get into the bad stuff, it wasn’t appropriate for her needs, she only wanted encouragement like a map

But then I woke up later that night and there was this girl hovering above an old calendar

She was the kind of woman who could slip inside a glass vase without much trouble

Her feet were small, like lilies, and her hips were narrow and when she folded her shoulders forward, she looked like a Russian ballerina bending over to wake an animal

Her skin was silently white without marks or moles as if a corpse on ice was a fashion statement

When we crawled into bed that night she started coughing and said she was getting hot and that she was never sick, so how could this be, and I guess she was super human in her own way

It must be a fever, I said and her forehead was moist, but so was her pussy and she wanted to have sex and so I tried my best, but she kept coughing and hacking up phlegm and then swallowing it, and I felt like my dick was inside a thick bowl of hot clam chowder and I couldn’t get that image out of my mind, so she rolled over and went to sleep, panting like an overheated dog

I lay there until the sun came up and I told her I’d be back in a few hours, but instead I went to a hotel and caught a shuttle to Houston and checked into one of the airport hotels that lined the entrance road

I started drinking from the mini-fridge and watching TV

Later that night, I picked up an earnest waitress with black rimmed glasses who was working at a bar/pool hall to make some extra money

She went to Rice, but her scholarship didn’t cover the incidentals and she could play pool and poker, knew odds and actually liked gamblers, which was unusual, and so we hit it off

There were a few veterans of foreign wars sitting at the bar stabbing children and dropping bombs on civilians and they didn’t like my act at all and when her shift ended, I bought a bottle and she drove me back to my hotel and we went up to the room and kept drinking

She wanted to talk about politics and I told her, I was working with refugees on the Honduran border who were trying to overthrow a new government they didn’t dig, but I wanted to leave and go to Thailand since the food and women were better and I didn’t understand the politics nearly as well as in Central America and I wanted to see if I could make it

All of this seemed to excite her and we made university love, like we were stretched out on a library couch and I could tell she had studied hard for the exam, and she smelled like smooth, thick text books and all-nighters

She left early the next morning and I didn’t hear her go, since the room was like a pressurized bank vault and noise died on the carpet or got trapped on the edge of the blackout curtain

I flew out that evening and soon enough I was in a light plane landing on a jungle strip in the middle of a war and the slow death of an Indian tribe that would be extinct in less than five years

Those two women, over three days, and I wondered if I’d made much impact on their lives … I wondered if they wrote poems about me, like this one … probably not, but I couldn’t complain much since one-night stands and falling governments were sort of the same for me, happening one after the other

3 thoughts on “Two Women Over Three Days

  1. I picture the Valley of Horses scene where Jondalar and his brother wander into some unknown village and the matriarch insists he fuck as many of the women as he can. He obliges of course.

    Liked by 1 person

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