Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Turn around and say good morning to the night

5th avenue in the morning just after the storm, I walk out and it sounds like a nightmare. Blacked-out buildings standing tall around me like naked autumn trees, the eerie silence a hurricane in my heart. I remember Carl, that night in the woods when I should have lost him forever. It's not just that he forgave me, but the way he did it. Looking at me from across the room through the clouds of smoke and the people. We never talked about it and as much as I want to I don't think that we ever will.

Chloe slept through the storm, it's Halloween now and if it wasn't such a waste of money we'd dress up in the scariest way we can imagine: from head to toe in Abercrombie & Fitch.

Saturday, October 27, 2012


The thought of Henry haunts me like a ghost these days, I want to see him but I can't, not now.

I put his dried daffodils in the closet and decide that if he can't touch me I can't either. I'm an insomniac at night, whenever I put my hands under the covers I start pretending they're his and they slowly move further and further down my body, like wild animals looking for water in the desert. I have to stop myself before they reach the lace edge of my panties and it's the worst form of torture that keeps me awake.

It will be dark in a couple of hours, Chloe and I are making plans for the night and she knows about my hands because I told her. "Let's go out in just our finest underwear and coats" she says, smiling, and the idea sends chills down my spine. Maybe we will, we've done it before, like a game we play. No one knows but us and no one is allowed to know. It's a secret we share and the way it feels when we look at each other.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Minding your business

Why do people think I'm an ad campaign? They keep asking me in e-mails and they gossip on forums, but none of them know anything about me. I'm not sure what I would be marketing (opium cigarettes maybe, or death?), but if any company out there wants to pay me for writing about my life, just let me know.

The days pass like speeding traffic here, Chloe is always tired but follows me out whenever I want to. Mother sneaks away late at nights and comes back before I wake up in the morning thinking I won't notice she was gone. I know she goes to see Frank but nothing more and I sometimes want to follow her just to find out what they talk about. 

When I was a child she never thought I understood anything, but I did. My father was different, he always talked to me as if I was an adult. "You must now one thing, angel" he said. "You must know that people will always try to hurt you, but it's not because they're evil. They do it because they care."

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Karma police

It seems like ages ago that I first saw her, that girl, standing by the fence away from everyone else in the school yard. It was fall like now, the oak leaves on the ground matched her tailored little Prada coat and the Missoni scarf, tied loosely around her neck.

She always stood there, alone, even in the rain. Every now and then I saw her in the hallways, silently passing by like a high fashion shadow. She intrigued me so I talked to her, her name was Stephanie but she wanted me to call her S. Everyone said she was strange but to me she was the most normal person in the Silver Lake area.

I followed her home from school. "Under that tree" she said, "that magnolia, I buried a dead bird last summer. Then in October I felt guilty for leaving it all alone in the cold ground so I went out one night and dug it up. I've kept the little skeleton in one of my father's cigar boxes ever since." The idea gave me goose bumps.

"We have to become friends" she said, "because now we share a secret".

Sunday, October 14, 2012

In my arms she was always Lolita

When I'm alone on weekends I sleep under the pearl white silk sheets in mother's bed. I did it all the time in LA, I guess it brings me back. To what I don't know.

She keeps a copy of Nabokov's "Lolita" on her slenderly elegant little rococo night stand, I go through it page by page to read her notes and see what paragraphs are underlined. I've wondered which of the characters she identifies with, once I even tried asking her but she dodged the question by returning it to me. Are you a Humbert or a Lo?

Next to the book stands that framed picture, the black and white one from Moscow's snowy Red Square. He doesn't smile, her father, my grandfather, but I don't know that he ever did. He doesn't look unhappy but there's something in his eyes, a small crack in the statuesque exterior, and if I didn't know any better I'd say it looks like fear.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

The Stephanie situation

I sometimes dream of endless apartments where every door leads to a corridor and a new set of rooms. It's not a nightmare, I'm alone but never afraid and it's quiet. There is no outside world, no windows, just the crooked walls and dim, dusty light bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

This morning I woke up in Henry's bed, it's getting colder and I still sleep in my underwear because he wants me to. We talked over breakfast and he mentioned S. "It was always you I wanted" he said and I should take it as a compliment but didn't. We kissed on the corner of Bond Street and Broadway, in my mind I was already on my way to the airport and her endless house in LA.

And all I can think of when I want to call her is: what if she'll never forgive me?

Thursday, October 4, 2012


Chloe's father never called, he went back to California and broke his promise like so many times before. We have them in common she and I, those sporadic flashes from the past that keep haunting us like ghosts, but together we've learned how to deal with them.

The day it happened, mother came to school in the middle of the day to tell me and I'll never forget the frightened look on her ivory white make-up free face as she stepped out of the taxi. We were silent for weeks, she stopped watering our flowers and her fear looked more and more like guilt. At least that's what I imagined.

He only failed me once. Chloe's father does it to her again and again and somehow I think that has to be a lot more painful.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Flaming October

I spent my weekend alone in and outside the apartment. They played awful music in the bar at The Edison and it took 4 ½ minutes before someone offered me a drink (I always wanted to know). I wore my Prada sunglasses in the rain on 7th Avenue but it will never be the same without Chloe. 

And on Sunday morning the sound of the elevator and her keys in the lock wakes me up. I pretend I'm asleep when she stands by my bed, leans over and kisses me on the cheek with her raspberry lips. "We'll drink this later" she whispers, carefully placing a bottle of Jack Daniel's on the night stand, and I know that we will.

Her smell lingers, it's like a forest on the first day of fall.