“You don’t smoke, do you?” – a voice asked me and a packet of cigarettes was addressed towards me.
“No!” – I said.
“Neither alcohol?” – The curious voice continued with poor English.
“Neither alcohol!” – I replied quietly.
“Do you have a girlfriend?!”
“Unfortunately not!” – I said, showing an astonished expression on my face. He guffawed. His way of laughing infected also some others, who were listening to our conversation, and thus this coral laugh, seems to be a flock of ducks singing.
“Then what’s the meaning of life?” – the voice exploded out of his mouth, coming hardly between his old teeth and giving an interference with his special laugh, as if he was saying something interesting.
“But, I have just arrived…” – It was me again, trying to justify myself. My words full of despair couldn’t stop those people laughing.
It was a well-known verse. The words of The Director remembered me the three qualities of a student from that time when I used to be a student, but now they didn’t give me any pleasant taste.
We were living in a small camp, which was constructed with some one-storey, not so pretty buildings, in a rectangle block. The life was hard on that isolated place and we couldn’t breathe freely. But on the other hand of this wither deepness, we were trying to find any beautiful spiritual moment, which was like irreplaceable food due to our living.
It was Saturday. A weak sun was beaming after some clouds, and sometimes the clouds were so pitiless covering the whole sun. On those moments the wind became more cool and penetrated deep under our clothes. I was out accidentally, and my thin T-shirt seems to cool me much more. My nose began to drop some small drops of a fresh liquid, that’s why I had to use my napkin that I had somewhere in the back pocket of my trousers. With a very smoothly and easy move, I caught her on her waist and I said:
“Come and hide ourselves away from this place, which is exposed to the wind and to the people’s eyes…” It was strange in contrast to other days, all those indifferent people coming by were very polite now, and on those moments, I didn’t really need their politeness. She tried to avoid my hand, but suddenly she touched a blackberry bush and was almost tearing her socks, which were hiding two very beautiful slim legs.
“Don’t try to avoid my hand,” I said, “because… just blackberry bushes would wait for you…”
She laughed, and now it was my turn to laugh.
“Why do you look at me like that?” – She asked me, after our eyes were forgotten to a vice-versa looking.
“Because you are looking me like that too!” – It was my answer.
I felt I was doing a mistake. The most desirable and inevitable mistake in the world! She was on that age where a girl has much more fantasies and the desire to a man is mixed up with the ghost of a white horse’s knight. She stuck to my body and we walked together to hide us after the wall of the sports hall, of that little town.
Meanwhile, I touched her face, as we were so close, and afterwards her hair, which was plait very thin, just like an African woman hairs. Her hair disturbed her for sure, during the sleeping at night. Easily, I kissed her cheek. It was one of those kisses, which gives more meaning than a very rush one. Afterwards, I became more confident and began to kiss the permitted face, from eyelashes, eyebrows to the nose and at the end… her lips.
Everything was happening so easily, as if it didn’t want to spoil that peacefully and cleanly angel. But her fragile lips… I don’t know how they looked like… They gave me a wonderful feeling, mixed up with a flying dream. She felt warmly on my chest, like she was, with a rose color on her face, which gave me a very sweet taste of her well ripen fruits.
“I am dangerous,” – she whispered.
“Why, do you want to hurt me?!”
“I am going to hurt your heart…” – she looked very deep into my eyes, and got confused.
“You have almost done it,” – I smiled.
A man was coming through. Fortunately, he didn’t watch at us at all.
“Oh, God!” – She called out, while the man was passing by.
“Do you know him?!” – I asked suddenly.
“It’s a friend of my father…”
But we didn’t interrupt our sin. The sin cannot be sinned. She needed to forget something, and I needed to get warmed apart from that cold wind. With a skillful move, like a ballet master, I took her body on my arms, I opened the door with the key that I had in my pocket and we entered into the body-buildings room. We lay down onto one of the sportive mattresses, and began to be more active and concerned to each-other… our breath began to be more intensively…
From that day and on, The Director couldn’t speak to me like he did before…
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- The Doe
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- Shefki Hysa – Albanian Writer
- The Dictator
- Literary creativity of Hysen Sinani
- Paulin Rranzi, Albanian Writer
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VANA on The writer that breaks the arm…