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 “Welcome to a place where nightmares are the best part of my day.”

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Ismaël L. Lockheed
► langue-de-plomb.

Dim 22 Mai - 16:13

“Welcome to a place where nightmares are the best part of my day.”

In fact, silence was a great weapon, like a big gun in the mouth. The trigger was just here, and his finger was on it. I wanted to hear his voice, his words. I wanted him to be violent, to beat my face hard, but he did nothing of it all. He just looked his papers and continued his work, like a great school boy, well-educated, docile and efficacious. An asshole. I stared at him, and after a moment, my anger flew away. The silence remained. It was his gun in my mouth; he did not know that he had the power to explode my brain with one finger. With a gun in the mouth, I could say nothing.

“Ismael! Wake up, stupid American boy!” His voice stabbed me. Again. Or maybe it was his hand who slapped my head. I woke up and yawned. My eyes lingered on him, then on the clock. It was already dark outside. London was silent, and empty of lives. In this world, there were just he and I. The office was my jail. He was a kind of bar. “You did nothing today… We will be fired because of you! What did I do to Lord to have you?!… ”

He was like a school teacher with an iron rule, beating my hands in rhythm. He was teaching me, leading me. I must have been a fool to think about it. This guy was nothing for me. Just a married man, with no child, young, not very pretty, but brilliant. Ezra Salzmann was like a dark-haired angel. Blue-eyed boy, not tall, not fat, not friendly. Nothing. No wings. And I was nobody too, Ismael Lockheed, stupid Californian boy lost in the heart of the English Capital. We were two stupid boys, and we bumped on each other every day. I was already bored of our war. He was too good, too gentle. My obsession. So fascinating…

“Ezra, it is almost 8pm. You can go if you want.” I said, with a smile “I will do the rest.”
“As if you can do something by yourself...” He answered with a sarcastic tone.

I laughed. I slept too much in the office, that’s true, but he was too severe with me. I dreamed sometimes. I looked at him;he stood, took his briefcase. He must have a photo of his fiancée in his pocket-book. Not a photo of her naked, no, just a photo with a smile, in a photobooth. That was trully awful to think about it. Maybe I was jealous. Maybe I just hated him because of his “perfect” appearance and life. Though I just sough something to do. I wasn’t from this country. I hated the gray sky of London, who made me silent and sad. I lived in California;I loved so much the sun to appreciate the rain; I wanted the star to burn. I closed my eyes, and, from a little moment, reappeared under my eyelids the memories of the burning skies of California, the sweet breeze, the hot sun flaming on the very top. The only thing that flamed in London were the eyes of Ezra. The real blue of his pupils stared at me, and when I opened, he turned his face away, walked toward the door. I stood up and caught his handle. He scolded.

“You leave me?” I was smiling; he was not.
“I promise Raquel to dinner with her tonight.”
“That not what I mean.” He blinked a moment and pulled on his sleeve.
“I don’t want to speak about it with you, just before see my fiancee, Ismael. You will ruin the mood…”
“Then I will continue.” I whispered. I took a step, bringing me a little closer to him. He stepped back, back to the door. The fool. His eyes was tempted me. “Don’t go… please?”
“You said that I can go.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Then change your mind again.”

He hissed and pushed me away, opened the door and leave away from me. I waited some minutes, and then I smiled… I remembered why I hated him so much and was so much fascinated at the same time. He was my prey, but he was the only one who caught someone – me. I wanted to hit the wall and to scream, but that will make me more miserable than I was. I was alone. He was not. He had Raquel. She was a very young woman, and one day, on her womb, there will be a little parasite who will steal a little more Ezra away from me. Maybe this day I will kill them all. Maybe this day I will have someone just for myself too. But this was too early to think about death or love. I looked around. There was nothing in the office, just papers about legends and crimes. I stepped towards my desk, and sat down on the chair. And I worked that night.

The day after, he entered in the office, looked at me. Surprise! I was here at 8am. Before him. And I wasn’t asleep. “Hello,” I said, but he did not answer. He stepped towards me, put a coffee down on my desk and glanced at my work without a word. He did not smile at all though. “Your… party was good, I hope?” I was merely hypocrite, but it was my revenge, because he abandoned me. Everything was his fault, though I was the one who seduced him. “You ruined the mood, Ismael.” I laughed, and he glared at me. “Stop laughing, idiot. That’s not fun—“

I rose up and I kissed him. His lips so soft opened easily. He wanted more, but he never asked – I always was the one who gave something first. He was a saint in the office. I was a demon, tempting him all the time. My hand grazed his hip. His blue eyes were wide-open, and I was totally falling in love again and again. I was literally falling in love. In his eyes, I drowned, flowed on the blue sea. I could smell the salt stinging my throat, my lungs were filling with water. It was so hard to breathe. Then that was it, being hurt? I laughed. He slapped my cheek.

“Watch your manner. I was talking.”

I sat down; he looked my face and raised an eyebrow. He touched gently my cheek that as gone red. I smiled to him, but he turned his eyes away. He was escaping, and the only thing I could do was look at this. My lecherous smile had no effect anymore. He knew me, all the things I can do to win. He knew that my hands and my lips never said the truth. I was a liar. He hated me for this. He wanted me to be genuine. The fact was that I was afraid to be stab on the back. I was afraid of him.

“Do you love me, Ismael?”
“Yes” I smiled “I like you a lot.”
“No, I mean…” He coughed, and wrinkle his eyebrows. “You know what I mean. Answer.”

It was here. I could feel it. The iron. The gun in my mouth. I could smell the pungent powder filling my mouth. His eyes glared. It was as if he was saying “dare to choose, dare to say it, dare and I'll be yours forever!” to me, but in fact, he was silent – I was just fantasizing. The silence was here again. I smiled. And if I love you, what will you do? Will you choose me over your girl? I closed my eyes. Fool. I will never love you. I had no womb. You want a parasite?! Go away from me, traitor…!

“No. Not like this. No feelings, remember? I just like your…” He interrupted me. I smiled.
“Stop! I don’t want to hear this. I know… That’s fine. I know this from the beginning.” He smiled, but his smile was shivering. “Raquel is pregnant.”
“Good job boy!”

He turned and walked towards his desk. I stood up.

“I’ll get some coffee. You want one?”

I opened the door and walked away from the office. My cheeks were red, but not from fever or slaps. Fucking tears. I smiled at a colleague… And realized. She was pregnant. Then I lost my smile. Maybe it was not good news ultimately. In my mouth, no gun, no powder, just the taste of bitterness.

I was surrounded by love… and nobody for me. I was screwed.

I was addicted. I wanted to kill him, lacerate him with my nails, to tear apart his skin, his heart, eat it all, broke his bones and so much things... To hear him cry and pray me to stop. But you know ... not. I would not do anything like that. Just... Smile. And coffee. Because we always lost what we don't deserve. Because I burned with my own hands my fate. I knew this from the very beginning.

“What goes around… comes around.”


“Welcome to a place where nightmares are the best part of my day.”

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POET&PENDULUM. :: petite pause aux trois balais. :: la palette de peintenlair; :: feather for tears.-