He Was A She

Deep in the heart of one night but close to a very early morning when the sky is still dark, everything was quiet but not everyone was sleeping. There was a woman standing by a window, but she wasn't looking at the city lights that were shining in the obscurity or at the few cars driving fast and lonely in the street, there was something more interesting to watch. There was a man sitting on the floor of a room, the woman could see him through one of the windows almost opposite to hers, you could see it was a man from the tall and masculine figure.

The woman was surprised to see that he was wearing a lingerie co-ordinate, bra and knickers. The colour was a light pink; the lace trimmings were slightly darker. You could see he was crying because the mascara was running down his cheeks together with the tears.

It was one of those apartments where from each window you can see a different room, so if the person who lived there hadn't pulled the curtains, it would have been very easy for a curious person like she was to see anything they wanted to!

He was walking from one room to another, the walls were dark almost like the sky during a winter night, and they were empty of any painting or pictures.

Everywhere he was going he always kept the cordless phone in his hand. Was he thinking about making a phone call or was he waiting for one?

What was the life of this man like? The woman could see images running through his mind. Confused and full of hate and love images. She thought she could feel the terrible pain that he was feeling in that moment. But she was a strong woman her mind was free to see those images clearly. She was able to go through those moments of his life that, day by day, were destroying him.

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She was imagining a tremendous life for him...there were lots of men coming and going every day, every single day, sometimes the same man would come twice maybe three times in a month.

Only the bedroom curtains were pulled up during the day, but he kept a multicoloured light on all the time, the same one as you would see in a 70's movie. The walls were dark, the light was moving as if it was always night in the room, a particular night with a constant rainbow.

From the curtains you could see somebody performing an inarticulate dance. It was relaxing to look at and it was easy to fall in love with those movements. You could not believe that it was a male and not the evil passion of a snake transformed into a woman.

The 'audience' was lying with half of his body on the bed with the back against the wall.

The dancing man was moving forward, toward the bed, still gesturing with the feminine ability of a contortionist, he was touching the body on the bed, kissed and caressed him and then made love to him.

Every time it was a ritual, slow and short but it was deep and intense, by the time he has finished the excitement was so high that there was no time for any other games.

This was the day. Everything was repeated again and again with a different man all the time, until the early minute of sunset.

What scared the woman more was the fact that in his face there wasn't the expression of a sick man, or either the one of a tired man that was obligated to do it.

Instead she could see something that she thought was even sicker, that was the expression of a woman that was enjoying all the pleasure that was giving and receiving.

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The night was different, there was a woman that was coming every evening, and was always the same woman. His expression was different when she was there. She had the power of reflecting the innocence of pure love, she was sweet and she looked soft, her skin was shining even in the dark.

The long black hairs were like velvet falling on her shoulders, and the deep blue eyes looked like a lake filled with dreams.

She would be sitting on her knees on the sofa, talking about her long day a work, waving her hands in the air, explaining something showing the excitement in her eyes.

He would be sitting there on the sofa listening to her talking, or more than listening looking at her talking; looking at her hands pushing the hair back or slowly moving them away from her red cheeks; watching her mouth opening and closing provoking in him an unbearable excitement. But by the rules in that game, he could only use his eyes and his imagination until the right moment.

She knew all this, she knew he wasn't listening, he didn't have to, the only thing she wanted was for him to be there; she wanted him to make her feel sexier and sexier every time.

After she finished talking, she looked at him deeply but also mysteriously inviting. He was watching her movements quietly and with a grin on his face that meant I know what you are up to!

She slowly moved her leg from beneath the rest of her body and simultaneously she was getting up the sofa. She had her back to him, she didn't need to look at him; one of her hand was unzipping her blue skirt, the other hand unbuttoning her cream coloured shirt. She definitely knew what was she was doing. He was looking at this figure moving a couple of feet away from him and she knew that he was getting really excited and that he desired her more than any other woman in the world. Her bare feet were walking in the direction of the bedroom. She took the first of the three steps in front of her letting her skirt slip down her legs and on the third step her shirt.

It was now the time for him to get up, it was his turn to continue the game. She was on her knee sliding down on the black tiled floor, feeling and suffering the coldness. Walking towards her, holding the black silky ribbon, his grin was now transformed in a smile, she was no longer allowed to see anything that was happening. She could only feel and listen. He too was on his knees, he could now touch her skin and feel her strong desire to be penetrated, and he was caressing her legs and kissing her buttocks and her back holding her hair tightly. She was moving her warm body underneath his, misshaping their images reflected on the floor, feeling the mist condensed by their sweat.

They would have spent all night in that spot, playing with each other body, making love like if it was the first time or maybe the last.

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In that right moment the nosy woman decided to open her eyes and was able to see his real image reflected on the mirror.

He was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, and the phone was next to him, tears weren't falling any more, the mascara had now drawn silly pictures on his face, some black drops were in his chest and on his bra.

There wasn't any woman looking out the window, there was only a desperate man looking at himself and at his desperation.

He wanted to know who he really was so he kept searching for something inside him that could tell him who he was and who he loved, trying to describe his life from the eyes of another woman.

The lights were now coming through the curtains. It was morning, he knew it was morning. It was time for his daily personality to come through, everything was ready, he was dress with his sexy uniform, and it was time to open the door to a new customer. But this morning was different, there was nothing around that was familiar to him.

He was scared, he couldn't face it any more, he couldn't feel any femininity, his legs were stiff and he couldn't dance.

He wanted to be the loving man that he was during the night when she was there to love and to please him.

She was everything and anyone that he loved; she was there for him, doing everything for him, play his game and never ask anything, she wasn't allowed to look, but she wouldn't complain because she was happy to obey any of his orders, she was happy to be his object of pleasure.

But that was just the night, there was a woman, the essence of a woman inside him that would come up when the morning light was up, but he hated this woman because she was destroying all his beliefs. He thought he could put up with this personality change every day, it's only a game, he kept telling himself, but it wasn't, it never was. He didn't have a personality any more; the man that he was and the woman that he had created inside him had killed each other.

He couldn't find anymore reason to exist and the strength was leaving his body.

He was thinking that may be the phone could help him. He was waiting for her to call, he was hoping for her to understand and to stop submitting herself to him, all that power towards her had made him even weaker but is was too late for that too. The phone was right next to him and it was ringing, but nothing was focusing any more, either his brain or his eyes.

His wrists were getting weaker and weaker every second, they were resting on his knees, and he could feel the blood dripping down, a red lake was forming around him. The phone was still ringing floating in the blood, but he didn't care, he was now almost happy, he was going in a place were he didn't have to worry about who or what to be.

It was now the time to close his eyes for the last time.

The end