TROJAN, circle of ten short stories by Nikola Kitanovic
Nikola Kitanovic - page of his short stories. Nikola wrote short stories since he was very young and he writing it as well today. Modern stories, short stories, postmodern stories, after-postmodern stories
1.
I was walking
beside myself. The street was warm, full of people and shop
windows, and I was eager to see everything. I was not looking at
my body and what was left inside it, but I was immersed in the
surrounding. I was passing through the people and they did not
notice me.
Then I saw
you. I was touched by your warmth. My body kept on walking, and I
stopped and walked along with you for a while. Only the gods could
know how blessed I was by that walk. Then I stopped. I let you go
forward and I was looking behind you for a long time.
2.
I was at
home. My body was reading the newspapers, getting excited because
of the news, getting nervous because of the dirty dishes in the
kitchen and helplessly looking for a bottle of beer.
I was sitting
back in the chair, still fascinated by the encounter, keeping your
smell in my soul. Filled with touches, I imagined you slowly
walking down the street. I could recognise every space of yours,
your warmth and breath. I didn’t remember your face or your body.
If I had been shown a photo of you, I would not have recognised
you.
3.
I went out of
the house. I left my body to keep on getting nervous. If I had to
share the flat and friends with it, I didn’t have to suffer from
all its ridiculous frustrations. My body, with all that is related
to it, is extremely boring, always complaining of something,
always missing something; it is getting on my nerves. I went to a
nearby park, by the river.
All the
benches were taken. On one of them there was a person, alone,
curled up in the end of the bench. I sat on the other end.
Suddenly I realised that you were sitting between that unknown
person and me! I was watching you, but that was air watching the
air. I realised that you did not belong to that person curled at
the end of the bench. You were just lonely, watching the waves of
the river.
4.
I could not
talk to you, address you, or touch you because I had left my body
at home. I could not see how you looked, your face, your hair,
because your body had been left somewhere, too. I was just
plunging deeply in your cloud, your warmth, and I felt more and
more like cuddling.
Two river
gulls landed on our bench.
5.
I was talking
to you, though you couldn’t hear me. In order to hear, one needs a
body; I could not hear you either. I was inventing your questions
and answering them.
“How old
are you?”
“Fifty
five,” I answered.
“Is that
too much?”
“Yes, that
is too much for a man to be loved,” I calmly concluded.
“That is
fair.”
Then we were
silent for a long time. I didn’t know how old you were. I had a
feeling of being caressed and I gave in to that. I was grateful
because you were not leaving the bench and I loved you more than
the air that I was breathing.
The two birds
were watching us, and I believed they could understand my silent
speech.
6.
A letter
arrived. My body was opening the envelope impatiently and it found
a lot of photos inside. It was excited, almost trembling while I
was touching them, believing that you were on them.
Eventually I
also looked at the photos. A wave of pure beauty was flowing
through me, purifying me, raising my being and my senses into the
state of an angel. I found myself in the field of images,
completely giving in. There was someone’s warmth there, someone’s
being, amazing, intoxicating, splendid.
But it was
not you. I was overjoyed. I was happy because I knew that you
lied!
7.
There were
more letters coming with new photos, always with a different
person on them. Only the words belonged to your body: seducing,
passionately dirty and absolutely exciting for my body. It
believed everything because it felt aroused from them, because
they gave me the sense of an adventure and call of the youth.
Every time I
knew that you were lying. How many bodies did you have? You wanted
me to believe that you had as many as you wanted.
What would I
do without your lies? My soul lives from them; my vanity is fed by
them; my body is getting excited by them.
I am happy in
advance for all the lies that you will send me.
8.
I could ask:
What do
you need me for?
What do I
need you for now?
Who are
you?
Who am I?
What am I
doing here at all?
But I am not
asking. I am rather keeping you as the most precious pleasure of
mine. I am breathing in the memories of you again and in my mind I
am listening to your lies that are fulfilling me.
I am
breathing in the fire and the gulls.
9.
Either your
being has been taken by madness, or you care about me. If it is
madness, let it be. I enjoy it.
The fact that
you are sending the photos of other people tells me that you want
to get me excited; you think that your body looks worse than the
photos of other people’s bodies.
I have a
chance because you think that I should be seduced!
I am grateful
for your lies a million times because they talk about us; they
talk about you, but they also talk about me.
10.
You will keep
on trying to seduce me with lies, and I will always love you like
the grass loves the morning dew. The two fires are clear here like
our two gulls:
I know
that there is someone who cares about me.
I know
that there is someone whom I love.
That is
enough to me.
