February 2019

I think I might have posted this one a couple of times but I like it even though it is rather sad, so please bear with me 😉

August 2014

Gert Garbo had enough.

He woke up one morning and saw Gretchen Gable beside him in her flowery nightgown. He shivered. Her gentle face, which he fell in love with a few years ago suddenly appeared to just be a mask behind which a fool was looking for ….?

Well, what was she looking for? What were they looking for? What was he looking for?

Certainly not for his job at the office. He just fell into it after school. Any dream of a “career” he could have had was destroyed by his mothers “reality checks”: “How much do you earn with that?!”, “How secure is this?!” and “How far up can you get?!”.

She could have lived with “journalist” but he had no intention of writing at all. Funny that he was writing the whole day now. Business letters, memos and other dry matters of working life. He even denied himself the joy of the theatre society, he had attended as a teenager.

His mother did not even visit one of his performances. Father was there. Every time. He came to him after they had finished, clapped him awkwardly on the shoulder and said:” Nice son. Very nice.” and left without another word. Gert never found out if his mother knew.

Gretchen turned around and moaned a little. That made him run. Not literally of course. He got up quietly and put on his colourful patchwork trousers he had hidden since he found them in the yard. He did not care anymore. He opened the wardrobe quietly and got the bright yellow kaftan out he took with him from his last performance in Antony and Cleopatra.

He never got over the fact that they did not let him play Antony. He was good enough. He knew he was good enough. Sometimes he made Gretchen act as Cleopatra when he was especially bored with their lovemaking. It always turned him on.

Today though was the day. Today was the day when his own play would be performed. The one he was thinking about for some time. He had figured out every scene of his one-man play. He had figured out the places and words that would never be heard though. His audience would be like his mother.

“Goodbye,” he said gently to Gretchen, who did not even stir.