FICTION
Bewilderment
Based on a True Story
HE WAS ALREADY WAITING for her. Hidden behind the black shadows of monotone drapes and the chirping of birds in the courtyard. She entered the third-floor apartment, sweating and out of breath, but happy to be here at last. She put her bags down the hall, slipped off her black suede loafers with gold studs, left her jacket on the bed. She knew he was there, but she tried to get rid of this thought at all costs. On her way to the shower, she passed through a pile of typical reduced-size white hotel cups in the sink that looked like a collision of many icebergs. She knew he was smoking on the balcony anyway, busy and entertaining his and only his thoughts, for which he did not need company. She did not smoke, but the typical smoker was communicative, collaborative, compulsive. Not Paul. He never needed anyone but her. Or so he maintained.
He wasn’t in bed yet when she came out of the bathroom. “Still smoking?” She put the robe on the black chair next to the bed. She was naked. She slipped under the covers.
‘You thought Paul was gonna be here, right?’ The voice made itself known from behind the curtains. ‘You thought you could have casual sex as usual and then gently and safely return to your ideal city life.’
