Farewell to arms

He calls me "l'américaine" because he's dying to fuck me but doesn't want her to know. She sees him looking at me and calls me "la putain" because she feels threatened. I've never spoken to them but I hear them arguing through the walls almost every night before they go to bed as enemies.

It's never my intention to get in between people this way, but knowing I can still turns me on. It's my weakness more than theirs but some vices aren't worth fighting. I tried it once and it made me unhappy, much like the time I decided to drink nothing but vodka cocktails for an entire month.

People are starting to recognize me in the village too, the pale foreign girl in her black dresses and sun bleached hair. If I get too close to them I'll want to leave, so I keep my distance just in case. Summer is almost here and the nights are warm and calm and quiet.