Коллекционер

           WhydoyouthinkI’llneverbedeeplyinlove,Isaid.Hetookaterriblylongtimetocleanhishands.

           Hesaid,Isaidperhaps.

           I’monlyjusttwenty.

           Hesaid,anashtreeafoothighisstillanashtree.ButIdidsayperhaps.

           Andyou’renotold.It’snothingtodowithourages.

           Hegavemeafaintlyhurtlookthen,smiledandsaid,youmustleavemesomeloophole.

           Wewenttomakecoffee,thewretchedlittlekitchen,andIthought,anyhowIcouldn’tfaceuptolivingherewithhim—justthedomesticeffort.Avileirrelevantwaveofbourgeoiscowardice.

           Hesaid,withhisbacktome,untilyouwentawayIthoughtitwasjusttheusualthing.AtleastItriedtothinkitwas.That’swhyImisbehavedmyselfwithyourSwedishfriend.Toexorciseyou.Butyoucameback.Inmymind.Againandagain,upnorth.Iusedtogooutofthefarmhouseatnight,intothegarden.Looksouth.Youdounderstand?

           Yes,Isaid.

           Itwasyou,yousee.Notjusttheotherthing.

           Thenhesaid,it’sasuddenlookyouhave.Whenyou’renotakidanymore.

           Whatsortoflook?

           Thewomanyouwillbe,hesaid.

           Anicewoman?

           Amuchmorethannicewoman.

           There’snowordtosayhowhesaidit.Sadly,almostunwillingly.Tenderly,butashadebitterly.Andhonestly.Notteasing,notbeingdry.Butrightoutofhisrealself.I’dbeenlookingdownallthetimeweweretalking,buthemademelookupthen,andoureyesmetandIknowsomethingpassedbetweenus.Icouldfeelit.Almostaphysicaltouch.Changingus.