Under The Summer Sun. Emmanuel Bodin

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СКАЧАТЬ with his, he could feel that burning body snuggle between his arms.

      Any man would have jumped at the chance to feel these plump, sparkling, perfectly hydrated lips against theirs. Frank had to taste them before the end of the night. He wanted her badly and swore to himself that he would not let her go as freely as she had come, knowing fully well that he might not see her again if he did not do what he had to. He felt that he had to place his unforgettable signature as a seal on their date.

      They had taken the road towards a restaurant that would rise up by chance in front of them. Frank was completely lost in a neighbourhood he did not know. They were walking without any sense of direction.

      They stopped a second time, with the same intentions. They examined each other closely. Desires intensified. They mentally and silently devoured each other. Neither of them had dared to cross this indescribable invisible barrier. There were only a few inches separating them from a sentimental relationship. It was so stupid! Frank knew that Svetlana would not make the first move. It was up to him to step up, to prove to her that he had the guts to kiss her to testify to this natural appetite between two beings who like each other and attract each other, irresistibly.

      Frank had felt a hesitation similar to the first attempt. They started back walking… What was happening? Frank felt it, Svetlana was waiting for nothing but his temerity. Where was it? He had missed two excellent opportunities. The third one had to be a home run. Otherwise, he could say goodbye to the beautiful Svetlana: she would not want to hear from this incompetent clown after that.

      He was attracted to everything about her: her body, her mannerisms, her personality. With her, a sense of trust put him at ease. So what was he afraid of? Frank had decided to postpone his final attempt till the very end of the night, in order to avoid any further pathetic moves. After having dinner and especially after throwing back a few drinks, he would definitely have more courage for it.

      After a while, an Indian restaurant appeared in front of them. Frank’s wallet would have appreciated this place but Svetlana did not seem too excited about eating there. More than that, the ambiance was nothing romantic. They continued wandering around until they had come across a more animated area. Around the square were several coffee shops. The first one they had gone to was closed for the night. The manager was very apologetic. They had then crossed the street to enter the cafe on the opposite side. From the outside it was not much of a looker, but the interior was very chic. A little too chic… Frank knew for sure that the bill would be damn high. But who cared! This woman who was accompanying him was well worth a financial effort. He did not plan on skimping on their short night out. Not at all! His goal was to completely win her over and make her his next companion.

      A waitress had seated them in a quiet and cozy corner. The table was surrounded by two leather seats. They had talked, they ordered, ate and drank. The attraction between these two was intense: their fingers intertwined, soft glances met with jovial smiles and sweet talk, and their hearts were beating hard and fast. The charm worked perfectly, within the rules of the art.

      Once the hefty bill was taken care of, they had gone in search of a metro station. Svetlana lived in Montparnasse so they had taken the same line. Frank took advantage of that by walking her home.

      Svetlana lived in a hostel for young workers. The room was tiny. The rent, although high for a single room, was not too bad for being in the city. In front of the gate of the building, Frank had spoken up first saying, “I had a great time and I…”

      He had not had time to finish his sentence before their lips had drawn close and collided. They had uncontrollably been drawn to each other. There, at that precise moment, was the dawn of a situation that would fire up the days that followed.

      Their tongues had hit it off well. They exchanged saliva. Both bodies had merged. Through this kiss a lot of tenderness was exchanged, in a form of exquisite sweetness that had diluted slowly, releasing a tangy taste. After having desired it so much, this moment was like a deliverance for both of them.

      Quite a few times, Svetlana told him that she had to go inside. On weekdays, the guard closes the doors at one o’clock in the morning. On the weekends, they stayed open until two o’clock but they were quickly approaching that time. Frank did not want to let go. Svetlana did not want to go home. The moment of grace was prolonged.

      Before the final unravelling of their arms and lips for the night, Svetlana had asked Frank when they could see each other again. The next day she had to leave to visit Brussels. She would not come back until Tuesday evening. Since her train ride was in the evening, Frank had proposed to accompany her to the station. He would come and pick her up here as soon as he finished his workday. Svetlana’s eyes had answered for her mouth and she smiled, before verbally confirming the next day’s rendez-vous. They had kissed one last time.

      As for Frank, he would begin a job as a caretaker-concierge in a building for three weeks. It was a job that did not give him any satisfaction. Cleaning the dirt and taking out the garbage did not allow him to flourish as he wanted. Only the salary was okay, thanks to a complementary end-of-contract bonus which made up for any benefit that an appointed caretaker could find in this job, since there is usually low-cost, almost free accommodation provided. In the heart of Paris, and for some residences, this privilege is a luxury; a form of decency compared to how astronomically high rent is in this bougie town. An undeniable attraction for many owners.

      However, this bonus no longer exists. It was cut by a government that passed new legislation and believed that these people—these substitutes, these precarious job-workers—earned too much money, plunging them even more into a financial imbalance. From that point on there is no longer a financial motivation; all that remains is a form of disgust, both toward the government that oppresses the proletarian and acts only in the interest of the highest spheres of finance of which it is fully dependent—deliberate slave limit—and towards work also when it comes into conflict with our deepest aspirations. By a policy of excessive austerity, our leaders have legitimized and anchored in our minds that unreasonable practices are developing. No need to talk about the demotivation of an unemployed person faced with a job proposal with a pay that skates around minimum wage. Who can survive living in Paris with a thousand euros net per month? The monthly rent of a decent studio is at least seven hundred euros. Most often, it flirts at around eight hundred. The calculation is fast and simple. A meagre income cannot offer an honest living. That is just salary to barely survive.

      The life of a human being does not mean much. What matters is amassing riches… If a commoner ends up on the streets or dies of starvation, it did not really matter… When one is nothing, it is better to return to nothing without being noticed… Politicians are the friends of the wealthy. Hand in hand, they seek not a single not a single interest of the people. They show that they are only capable of making big, beautiful speeches to further lull the masses who begin to stir, to be indignant, to revolt even. At best, they manage to feel a little disdain for the populace. Not much else. They are far too busy negotiating arms deals or starting a new war. Citizens join forces, shouting “Stop!” They don’t listen and they ignore the roaring crowds. The gap between government disconnected from social realities and the population is irreparable. These leaders are our ruin. They are responsible for all the misery a country suffers.

      Frank had watched the young woman enter the building. She officially became his new girlfriend. Then he had gone in the direction of his home, a thirty-minute walk to Denfert-Rochereau. On the way, he had a smile on his face, eyes that sparkled and the mind that went over the evening they had just shared. The next day, an entirely different matter awaited Frank. He had to get up early, roll up his sleeves and slog without intensity, passion, or brilliance; like a robot, a living dead.

      Svetlana had just spent an exceptional day like she had rarely experienced before. She had not gotten to know many boys yet. Her experiences had all been short-lived. She naturally СКАЧАТЬ