O.A. - Ruby

The rain intensified as if it was the tropics . Sadness, like a sucking leech, throbbed in my chest. I wanted to drink a dose of antidepressants twice the prescribed dose. Maybe I will. Tomorrow is still Sunday. I had until Monday to hang around .

I think I dozed off by the window. I don’t know how much time has passed, but my legs were already numb and my knees crunched when I began to straighten them.

There was the sound of a turning key in the front door lock. I walked barefoot into the corridor. On the threshold stood the same girl with the giant braid and a very familiar face.

“Amir?”

“I hate children’s holidays.” His mascara had run from the water and was smeared all over his face.

“Are you Rapunzel?”

I put in a lot of effort to contain my laughter, as judging by the look on his face, his appearance and what I had observed from the window, my friend’s day had not really worked out.

“No, I’m her balding half-sister.” Amir closed the door behind him and took off his wig.

“How much did you drink?”

“Not enough to make it through this day. Not e-n-o-u-g-h.”

“Give me a five, buddy,” I put my hand up. “…go change your clothes, while I warm up the pies and wait in the kitchen for you and your story, the one about from which fairy tale such a beauty has come to our house.”

Part 4

Levy and Ethan blocked the door with a dresser. Caleb sat in the far corner of the room, his hand clutching the wound on his shoulder. The blood had practically stopped, but a tight bandage was still needed.

“So, what’s next? We’re at an impasse!” Sandra sat down on the floor next to Caleb, her arms wrapped around her knees.

The room was square. The floor, walls and ceiling were of light wood and in many places there was a black mold growing. Levy had the impression that the room resembled the color of a Dalmatian. The only light sources were the three kerosene lamps that the guys were holding.

“The main thing is to be quiet. Let’s wait a few hours.” Levy took one of the corners in the room.

“This is a weird place.” Ethan opened the top drawer of nightstand. “Why, out of all possible furniture there is only this nightstand?”

“Is that the only thing that interests you now?” Caleb spoke in a whisper.

“Guys, look…” Ethan pulled out a large rusty dagger from the second drawer. “Is this what I think it is?”

Sandra jumped to her feet and backed away into a free corner. Her knees bent backwards with a crunch.

“You’re not Sandra…” Caleb didn’t even turn his head in her direction. It seemed that a little more and he would lose consciousness.

“No, but I have her skin on,” pseudo-Sandra smiled, showing her mouth full of needle like teeth. “It was necessary to make friends with you pigs.”

“Who is he?” Ethan held out the dagger in front of him, pointing it towards the creature hiding behind the facade of his sister. “Who’s in charge? Who the hell did all this?!”

“Mine? Our mother, my little brother. I will say one thing: he is not such a honey as me. And I think that you will soon see for yourself.”

The Sinnerman 5 5 Sinnerman is An African American folk spiritual song, recorded by Nina Simone on the 1965 album Pastel Blues. song on the alarm clock announced that the time for the Morning Pages was over and it was time to get ready for an appointment with the therapist. The guys had already gone about their business. It wasn’t that we hadn’t had a good conversation in recent weeks it was the fact that there just wasn’t one. Everyone had plunged into their own lives at once, into their own worries. The traditional Friday gatherings in the kitchen had ceased. It was good that at least Camille’s culinary exploits remained unchanged. A paper sticker was stuck to the microwave, on which it was written in her handwriting:

Banal pumpkin puree with potatoes and cheese.

Warm up for a minute at medium power.

Bon appetit and have a nice day. Kisses.

“Why not register on a thematic dating site? There are many applications on your topic.” Maria crossed her arms over her chest.

If my memory serves me, then this gesture can mean that the interlocutor is unpleasant to her? That is, I.

“You feel like a piece of meat in the market on those sites, and in my opinion, there are mainly only three types of personalities.

“The first is the handsome men with the bodies of Greek gods, who believe that the time spent in the gym equates to: “I worked too hard and went through too much in my life to make any more efforts, so everyone owes me.” To be honest, I am a little afraid of such people because I don’t know how to behave with them at all or what to talk about. In the company of such people, an inferiority complex can develop but usually all you can say about such people is “just a beautiful wrapper’ and, perhaps, that’s all, just a pretty wrapper. If such a demigod is dating someone, then most likely it is not just dating but most likely he needs something from his partner.

“Then you suspect the insincerity of those in whom the incompatible is combined: beauty, intelligence and a big heart. If you meet such a person, all the time you ask yourself: “What’s the catch?” Therefore, you can never enjoy such a relationship.

“The second type are wealthy mature men who are looking for young people of the first type and ready to support them.

“The third type is married or don’t really care and do not want anything more serious than sex. Almost 90% want to meet tall, muscular guys with no complex.

“In general, through the efforts of millions of modern gays, classical “masculinity’ has become some kind of obligatory standard of sexuality, while any manifestation of “femininity’, on the contrary, is undesirable and asexual.

“At the same time, guys who do not fit or simply do not want to fit into the framework are humiliated not only by heterosexuals, but also by those who should understand their feelings better than anyone else, other homosexuals. That is, this is a kind of homophobia among gays!”

“What type do you consider yourself to be?”

Heck…

“Probably some fourth subtype. When the waves of loneliness hit me, I started an account on Hornet and Surge 6 6 Telephone dating app for gays , with the intention of treating myself and sex less seriously but as soon as I came across photos of the first type of profiles with their requests ‘tall and muscular’, I began to freak out, it woke personality complexes in me and I deleted my profile… And so, two or three times a month it happened. I understand that I am reasoning like a prude, but this is my mood now. Maybe I don’t really think so… I don’t know… I don’t want to think that I am a hypocrite, and I myself would not mind dating a tall and muscular guy. Oh, how I am not against that. I would like to think that inner qualities come first for me, and it’s okay if a little fat comes with them. I don’t know this topic is somehow painful for me… At the moment…”

“And now? Have you tried dating? Why don’t you have a boyfriend now?”

“Because I have the desire, but not the strength.”

“What is that like? Explain.”

“Well, I’ll try…”

“I want to be taken care of and listened to. I want to be the center of the world. I want sensual sex, touching, I will not voice all my sexual fantasies , but this is all one-sided. This is much more than what I am ready to and able to give. Sometimes I just don’t even have the strength to keep the conversation going. I don’t know if it’s the depression or because of taking medication, but as soon as I have the intention of meeting someone, I remember that I will need to talk about myself and listen to the interlocutor and, you know, the enthusiasm immediately disappears. I do not have enough tactile sensations, and sometimes out of loneliness I want to climb up a wall, but then I understand that this may be just an attack of lust, a release of hormones. After all, what happens after I get sex and attention? I don’t know what to do next. After all, it would be necessary to maintain a conversation and somehow continue to interact, and right now I am not capable of most of the above. I hope that I somehow get better and that I will not be an eternal soufflé.”