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Do you know how gulls move when they touch down on the streets of our city

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Gavia

Dauenchauer Konstantin


Do you know how gulls move when they touch down on the streets of our city? They hit the ground, hold on for a second and totter away, aimless, without an assumption to move…


She reminded me roughly of a gull in a big city. She spent most of her time in the air leaking of interest for other people and their problems. The problems of the people in this city. In this capital city. She only hit the ground to grab some food for the further flight. Then she continued the flight to find more food – her eyes were made for this. Her eyes only registered things she wanted to see - men. Not every man excited her interest. Not even the men she would like. No. She preferred men who were attracted to her. These were plenty. Some of them were really rare and kind, but the character was not of interest for her. She just needed her food. Her sustentation… Perhaps I should tell you what exactly her nutrition was, I observed her long enough to know this. She resembled a lion seeing a gazelle in the desert. She monitored the men, just long enough to see if they were weak. When a lion wants a gazelle, it hunts the booty, but if the lion can not catch the fresh meat, capitulation begins… After the abdication, the lion is greedy for flesh. He sharply picks out weak booty that does not require hunting. He does not attack directly. He waits and sharpens his teeth. The teeth that will lacerate his target in a few seconds. The lion knows it. He feels it. It is his nature. His destination.


She reminded me of a gull. And of a lion. She followed the men she liked, but never long enough to see if they were ready to mime the king of all animals and take their place next to her. Her greed could not be satisfied. Well, she never let someone satisfy her. Many of them wanted to accomplish this. She had the choice…and she took them all.


She took everybody who admired her, no matter who or how they have been. Gazelle or lion, it did not matter, she was flexible. Just right to have everyone she wanted. Communication did not interest her, ecstasy appeared to be the goal. This became her fate…one time. Only one time she regret. Only one time she wished to change her life. Only once…


She lays on the bed. It is dark in front of my eyes, but I still can see her. Pallid like a rainy summer. Cavernous eyes. Limbs hanging droughty and flabby down her body. Her head is a skit of the past, the long blond hair is gone. She is a derelict of her own. Tied up on the bed she prays every second to live longer than the two days the doctors hopefully gave her.


How can I know that all? The answer is simple but contains two human lives in it.


I am an AIDS carrier. This message arrived one year ago. At the moment I’m doing a drug therapy. This treatment is killing me. Maximum two months. She picked me out to consume me, to feed herself. I liked her. But she just wanted the satisfaction.


We slept with each other 14 months ago. A year later we both met in the hospital. Fatally ill. Two months long we counted the days until the end.


Limbs hanging droughty and flabby down her body… She lost her similarity with a lion. A gull? Two days left to live.