The Visit

The house was a regular house. Nothing extra, from what we could tell. We cased it good. The angle was more than convincing. M’s sister was expecting, and M wanted a better life for her. M breathed heavily through the stocking, she said we needed a few more runs, she kept a positive attitude, and I, as usual, recalled the softness of her firm thighs to my aid. We entered the house, took a few steps and were left to stand there motionless in what looked like the living room, becoming part of the furniture. You couldn’t blame M. The plan – and it was mostly her plan –was foolproof. The woman of the house wheeled out of the murk into an old streak of moon to greet us. “Well, don’t mind me”, she said, “I’m a fixture, just like the two of you. You are in a fix, aren’t you? Don’t be bothered by me.” We couldn’t move a muscle. “It feels odd, doesn’t it?”, she went on, “Suddenly not being able to move at all, especially in the absence of a board or a set of strict rules. People aren’t pawns, you know, and they can’t be treated like ones”, she said, slapping her leg and rocking back and forth a little, for emphasis. “Do you mind me asking what do you do for a living? Oh, don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your little Byzantine error. Well? Okay then, if you’re not willing to answer, I understand. The least I can do is tell you what I do for a living, or rather, what I’ve always wanted to do. I simply couldn’t resist the opportunity, could I, since you make such a captivating audience, and it would only take a minute of your time. The question should always be: what do you do for love? I wrote. I wanted to give this city back to the reader, again and again. The others, they wanted to sell it,

and it doesn’t take too long to realize who’ll be getting the short end of the stick. I didn’t last very long, didn’t persevere, grew weary and moved away, to wither in peace. All I ever wanted was to make people listen. If only for a short while. And it was here that I learned that even though I couldn’t make them listen, I could still tell them what to do, and that, sometimes, they had to do it. I learned it during a friendly game of cards. I learned that you can’t cross a simple suspension bridge, if you have such terrible, terrible hands.”