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Milena Miteva


They called him the Summer Sausage. He was about 30 years old. He was often sneaking into our dormitory to sleep with one of the girls from the floor above mine. He always reeked of heavy perfume, cigarettes, hard alcohol, and maybe a bit of mint from his chewing gum. He smelled of man. His features were vulgar and arrogant, he was short and muscular. Firm body, dark skin, and constantly darting and scanning shiny coal-black eyes. Even unshaven, looking stupid - like a Mafioso from an Italian movie.

Once we shared the lift. His oily eyes immediately started undressing me. He grinned broadly, displaying glittering even teeth. ‘What d'ya work at?', he asked huskily. I wasn't working presently, I mumbled, for I was studying for exams. He grinned again, muttering ‘What's the point? Food and sex is all that matters.' I tried to smartly equal his grin, but failed - the lift stopped and I had to exit, the door closed and the lift went up. He was going to his girlfriend, the peroxide blond with a meekish, cow-like face, renowned for never saying ‘no'. Her room was just on top of mine and I could't help hearing him banging her mercilessly for a long, long time. She responded with moans and cries, just like a porn star pretending to be shattered by the penetration of a god. The noise above terribly obstructed my studies - instead of concentrating on learning, I imagined their love-making and the images drove me crazy. Whenever the blond screamed, I felt like a nun, locked away from the world. Viscous envy put roots and grew in me - I craved for revenge. I wanted all this noise to stop for good.

And it did. The exams were over, I passed mine successfully, and the life in the dormitory returned to normal. Full of gossip, that is. Rumour spread that the Summer Sausage abandoned the blond. Nobody saw him around any more, and his absence fueled rich speculations. One was asserting that he went to start a business in the USA. Another was sure he was sentenced to prison for drug dealing. A third whispered, that he found out he impregnated the stupid blond and simply ran away. The wild stories had no end, but there wasn't a bit of truth in them. The truth was simple: he was no longer around for I spent almost every night in his bed. Our sex was long and merciless, but I practically never screamed or cried out aloud.



© Milena Miteva
© Vesselin Vesselinov, C. Hasbrouck, translated
© Електронно списание LiterNet, 01.09.2010, № 9 (130)