by Martin Cid
Manhattan. 15 years ago
I’m sad, I’m terribly sad. Why haven’t you written me? It has passed four weeks and I haven’t heard from you. Are you angry with me? I must confess I spend much time thinking about you and about… you know… what happened.
Alex broke the letter and stroked Jack. Crazy stupid girl! All she will get is to destroy the novel with her ridiculous wails. Alex needed to be calmed because that evening he had to meet his father. He hoped all works fine. Anyway, he would have to write Lorraine asking for breaking their relationship. It’s ridiculous again! They had no relationship. She had a boyfriend and he had a character to display. Please, Lorraine, stop writing!
I spend the holidays with my parents. It’s so boring. We are in Italy visiting monument after monument… my mother loves them! I would like to be in Paris again. I miss you. How’s Jack? I’m happy for you both; I think Jack found the greatest owner he would get.
Alex’ novel was about to finish and he didn’t want to talk to Lorraine until his work was ended. The character was very different to real Lorraine. He imagined a sophisticated woman, the kind of woman a man couldn’t ever get. Every word of her, every letter, he looked down on Lorraine… so kind to decide anything, so stupid to think… so human. He preferred the distant elegance, the elaborated fake beauty of his fictional character to his real Lorraine. It is really difficult to prefer a real person to a character, the perfect definition in literature, the possibility of changing and the master seduction of words… Who really was Lorraine? Less than a muse, less than human! Since the deal, he had spent much time with Lorraine, night after night listening her, listening her stupid dreams and thinking. He knew, she just wanted to assure his silent… and he wanted a character. First he knew Lorraine as an angel, with her opened wings of kindness and beauty, then Lorraine became a mediocre human being. Did she deserve the honor?
‘Your father is here.’ A voice said behind him.
‘I will go in a minute.’ Alex answered.
He would remember that moment in his whole life, the moment he decided not to go back to Paris, the moment he decided to confront his father, the moment he decided to leave the University, the moment he decided to forget Lorraine and her dead child.
‘I’m ready.’ He said.
**Fake Game, serial novel by Martin Cid http://yareah.com/?cat=293