[First part here]
Time went by, and as sex entered into Alice’s life, it also did into Elizabeth’s. A game inside the game. Nothing to worry about, she thought. “Every time I close my eyes I dream of that evening in the barn, when your flesh pentrated mine, and the world dissapeared into that bright heat”.
How could anyone real compete with that? Specially those . They were filled with doubts, and spoiled those magic moments asking for permission to touch her tits, or telling her that they were about to come. James didn’t have to worry about fluids of any short, or about small beds or condoms that didn’t want to cooperate.
If that was the only alternative, Elizabeth preferred to go back to James’ letters, to masturbate thinking of James’ fingers caressing her skin. Maybe when she opened her eyes and got out of the room she could only find a hallway full of dirt and noises of children running upstairs, but at least she just had to wait for a week for the next letter.
“I have met someone”, read Elizabeth in dismay. “I don’t understand how it could happen. She is a girl I met at the port, and I guess she reminded me of you. It’s the only explanation. My heart is torn apart, and my body is about to break down in pieces. I love you. And I hate your for it. And I hate myself for hating you. I’m broken. Empty. James”
And for a moment she went back to being Alice, and she imagined Paula as confused as her, and wondered if she had been losing her time searching in the wrong places. And possessed by a great revelation, she started going to lesbian pubs. But they didn’t come back from the war either. And they could also lubricate too much. And Alice went back to square one, and she went back to being Elizabeth.
“I forgive all your sins, my darling, if you can forgive mine. I’ve looked for you in other bodies, afraid that my life would only be an unfulfilled promise. But I’m tired now. Tired of waiting, tired of not finding you, nor anyone who can make you dissapear. As of this moment, I’m going to leave home, I’m going to find you. I don’t care about the war. I prefer bullets and mud to this unbearable wait. I love you. Elizabeth.”
And Alice got on a plane to Buenos Aires, and Elizabeth landed on a beach full of injured soldiers and twisted metal. And she traveled across fields disfigured by trenches, and she scaped from mercenaries with rotten teeth and blood-stained knifes, and she ended up finding James with a badly shaven beard a scar above his eye, but with exactly the same eyes she remembered. And James confessed that the port girl was a lie to let her free, and Elizabeth silenced him with a kiss. And there were no more anoying details to ruin their perfect sex. No more pubs filled with smoke, no more alarm clocks.
No more letters.
Time went by, and as sex entered into Alice’s life, it also did into Elizabeth’s. A game inside the game. Nothing to worry about, she thought. “Every time I close my eyes I dream of that evening in the barn, when your flesh pentrated mine, and the world dissapeared into that bright heat”.
How could anyone real compete with that? Specially those . They were filled with doubts, and spoiled those magic moments asking for permission to touch her tits, or telling her that they were about to come. James didn’t have to worry about fluids of any short, or about small beds or condoms that didn’t want to cooperate.
If that was the only alternative, Elizabeth preferred to go back to James’ letters, to masturbate thinking of James’ fingers caressing her skin. Maybe when she opened her eyes and got out of the room she could only find a hallway full of dirt and noises of children running upstairs, but at least she just had to wait for a week for the next letter.
“I have met someone”, read Elizabeth in dismay. “I don’t understand how it could happen. She is a girl I met at the port, and I guess she reminded me of you. It’s the only explanation. My heart is torn apart, and my body is about to break down in pieces. I love you. And I hate your for it. And I hate myself for hating you. I’m broken. Empty. James”
And for a moment she went back to being Alice, and she imagined Paula as confused as her, and wondered if she had been losing her time searching in the wrong places. And possessed by a great revelation, she started going to lesbian pubs. But they didn’t come back from the war either. And they could also lubricate too much. And Alice went back to square one, and she went back to being Elizabeth.
“I forgive all your sins, my darling, if you can forgive mine. I’ve looked for you in other bodies, afraid that my life would only be an unfulfilled promise. But I’m tired now. Tired of waiting, tired of not finding you, nor anyone who can make you dissapear. As of this moment, I’m going to leave home, I’m going to find you. I don’t care about the war. I prefer bullets and mud to this unbearable wait. I love you. Elizabeth.”
And Alice got on a plane to Buenos Aires, and Elizabeth landed on a beach full of injured soldiers and twisted metal. And she traveled across fields disfigured by trenches, and she scaped from mercenaries with rotten teeth and blood-stained knifes, and she ended up finding James with a badly shaven beard a scar above his eye, but with exactly the same eyes she remembered. And James confessed that the port girl was a lie to let her free, and Elizabeth silenced him with a kiss. And there were no more anoying details to ruin their perfect sex. No more pubs filled with smoke, no more alarm clocks.
No more letters.
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