An excerpt from the novella of the same title
I approached him slowly with my small, light steps.... My legs were trembling, my whole body began to shiver... oh God, what was happening to me? I had the feeling that, from a seagull, I was turning into a wet hen, shivering in the rain... The suitcase I was holding in my hands slipped; I had lost my strength. My head was roaring like the bugles of battle, it felt as if high walls were collapsing. I was burning inside, I wanted to approach him, but I was also afraid.
He saw me and ran in my direction. Without even a greeting, he swept me up into his arms. He spun around as if he had caught a dance from Peja. As if he held a beautiful decoration in his arms, and not the weight of my body. I placed my hand around his neck. I was looking for somewhere to hold on to; all my life I have looked for support. His neck looked like that of a powerful warrior, forming a strong connection with the muscles of his broad shoulders. My light dress played a rippling game, along with the wind that rustled as we spun. I couldn’t understand if it was our hurried breathing, or the breeze coming from the wide field of the aerodrome. My long hair poured like a waterfall over my body. It was caressed, and it seemed to tremble beneath his deep breathing. He had parted his lips in a smile of great
joy. He let out groans, groans of pleasure, a voice of happiness, as if he were on a lonely mountain. His voice, drunk on the multicolored greenery and the chirping of birds, sounded like tens, hundreds, thousands of melodies. He was drunk on the scent and the breeze of the branches kissing one another when the wind blew. Drunk on the rustling of the leaves, drunk on the morning dew, drunk on the sunbeams that skipped here and there like shining lines between the leaves and branches... Pressed tight against his body, I let out a pleading voice: “Let me go, let me go, please!” He didn’t hear my voice. He kept dancing with me in his embrace! He smiled along with the sky, with the sunbeams, and wanted these moments to shine even
more.
***
Feeling embarrassed, to bring the situation back to reality, I brought my lips close, which had lost their color, not from the spinning, but from the whole event unfolding around me. I felt his heat. Startled by the kiss, he began to slow his spinning, and his hands began to let me go slowly, as if with my lips I had sucked away all the strength holding me. As it draped over his body, my thin dress began to ride up and expose my legs all the way to my white thighs. Up to where a ray of light rarely entered, and that part of the body always remains hidden and as if saved for someone. Smooth, soft, tender, and innocent before the gazes of passersby. Scorched by a scent of balms, with a fever in my body from his lips, I tried with one hand to pull my dress down, so as not to become a laughingstock, while I held the other hand tightly around his neck. The other passengers who had gotten off the plane with me were greeting their people who had come out to meet them. Everyone had been left bewildered by the scene they saw before them! They looked and walked away with smiles on their faces. As they left, you could hear a voice slipping out, humming. “It seems the world is theirs!” Another said, “How beautiful life is for someone!” A slightly hunched old woman murmured, “Love breaks the boundaries of madness!” The crowd began to thin out, we were still there, dancing along with the wind!... As if dazed, he pulled his lips away from mine, and
with both hands he took my head and whispered: “How beautiful you are, my love, how beautiful you are! Your lips are like a pomegranate seed!”... and he kissed me again. “Your cheeks crimson like the apple on the branch!”... he kissed my cheeks too.... “Your neck like the tower of St. Catherine’s church!”... and again he performed the same ceremony. He rested his hand very lightly on my hair. He ran his long fingers like a comb through it, and talked the whole time: “Even your hair has grown since the day we parted. It has turned into threads of saffron!”... as he spoke he brought my head close to his lips, as if he wanted to drink his fill of the scent of my hair. I looked at him and felt that he could not get
enough. He began to touch every part of my body, as if he wanted to measure them one by one, as if he wanted to check if they were the ones he had touched long ago! As if he couldn’t believe himself that it was him again, touching them once more, and getting drunk on their scent and their looseness!... While he was busy with my limbs, I
remained petrified. My strength was only fading, my heart began to beat rapidly, as if it wanted to burst from its cage! Dizziness began to press in on me. I tried at all costs to keep my gaze in his eyes. His eyes had taken the direction of the sun, they were looking right at it. In those moments it seemed to me that the sun entered my eye, and just as I was in his embrace, my hands began to fall downwards, as if they were two broken branches of a tree. A dark shadow enveloped me and I faded, I faded into a world that did not exist, but was only dreamed of. In a sad dream, as if in an abyss, I heard his voice that seemed to come from a well, “Artaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!............. Artaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!..... Help,
people!... I need an ambulance... please... help!...”
** *
“Arta!... Arta!... Open your eyes, please!”... I heard his voice. It sounded to me not like a powerful cry asking for help, but like a soft call, like a pleading call. Like a call that comes full of melody, and this melody of a voice woke me from my blackout. I opened my eyes! Beside my bed I saw Artan. I was lying in a bed, but I didn’t understand where I was. I rolled my eyes around to find out more. He understood this rolling of my eyes, he hurried to give me the answer I was asking for with my eyes!... “My soul!... My soul!... You are in the hospital, my little heart, in the hospital!” The whole time he was caressing my hand, which he wouldn’t let go of from his hands, as
it seemed, he was afraid they would slip away again. I didn’t have much time to observe where I was. The smell of the hospital and medications hit my nose directly. I was allergic to these smells. I knew it, I was going to lose consciousness again. How was it possible that I was experiencing these moments, awaited with such longing, like this?
Artan didn’t know this. I tried to tell him by squeezing his hand. Time didn’t allow me... I lost consciousness again!...
* * *
At first, as if frightened, I pulled my hand away from his. I rolled my eyes around the room. My eyes wanted to tear the thick curtain with vertical yellow and green stripes, which made the room I was staying in look taller. These eyes wanted to break the windowpanes, and the crash of the breaking to wake me up, to bring me back to reality. A corner on the right side of the window had been left poorly covered by the curtain. I opened my eyes in wonder, trying to see as much as possible through that remaining gap. Outside, it seemed to be pitch black! The sun wasn’t shining like before. It was raining! The drops beating against the windowpane left streaks like the tears of a child who had been left all alone. I looked in vain! I tried in vain to see more! That was all the curtain allowed, and that was all my eye could catch from where I was... I tried to get up. Curiosity pushed me to know, where was I? I knew I was in a hospital, but where, in what place!?
I had a great desire to get up slowly, very slowly, as if I were a butterfly’s wing, without being noticed by anyone, without waking anyone. I would have liked to be an angel’s shadow, to run to the window and pull back the thick curtain, which had now become a thorn in my eye, to be able to look and learn more about where I was! I didn’t move. I was afraid of waking Artan. I was wearing a nightgown that wasn’t mine. It was thin. It was made of a purple silk material, with gilded lace on the right side of my chest. I was covered with a hospital quilt up over my waist. Meanwhile, Artan was curled up like a snail that had forgotten its head outside. His head, covered with short, disheveled hair, kissed
my shoulder. One of his hands had remained linked with mine, the other he had placed against his cheek, as if it were a soft pillow. He was fully dressed; he even still had his black sneakers on. I stayed for a while watching him, listening to his breathing, which came like a spring breeze and caressed my face.
I hesitated to move just my hand, I wished I had it free... had it free so I could fix his disheveled hair. In fact, it didn’t bother me that it was disheveled, I rather wanted to caress it, to touch his forehead... oh, with what delight I would kiss his lips that had taken on a swollen shape, as if they were waiting for
my kiss. With what desire I would kiss every part of his face. With what desire I would smell his scent like two months ago... Lost in those desires of savoring like in a movie, our first meeting appeared to me on the walls. My eyes had remained fixed on a very small, grayish spot; it seemed a fly had left its mark.
***
It was a summer day! Toska and I were on a break from work, we were going around visiting the shops. Suddenly, just as we were in the middle of smiling, Toska’s cousin, Tomor, crossed our path.
“Why are you two so dazed, where are you going?” he asked, completely covered in smiles. That’s how he was, you could never see him without joy on his face. He was accompanied by a handsome, but very withdrawn boy. Tomor introduced his companion without hesitation.
“Arta!... This is Artan!” He reached out his hand and greeted me... I reached out my hand and felt the warmth of his hand.
“I’m Arta,” I said, and I lowered my eyes so he wouldn’t notice that some kind of feeling was about to redden my skinny cheeks.
“Artan!... How does it seem to you here in Germany, do you like it?” asked
Toska. It was a good thing she asked, because it broke the silence that had taken over.
“I like it beautifully! But without a job here it isn’t good, because you are left alone almost all the time. It’s a good thing that
Tomor had the day off today, and we went out a bit to enjoy the beauties and the sparkles of this city. It truly is a large and beautiful city.”
“Arta!...” Tomor let out a call. “Artan is my uncle’s son. He has come here for a visit. He will stay with us for a month.” And with his eyebrows and eyes he made a grimace to tease me, as if he wanted to ask me, “He’s something for you, isn’t he?” I felt embarrassed! To tell the truth, Artan was not to be scoffed at, he was even to be
admired. He had a round face and pronounced cheekbones. His lips were full, while in the middle of his chin he had a small dimple, which made him special. He was a head taller than me, his eyes were like a clear lake, his head raised proudly above his white neck. His long hair slightly covered his broad neck, and was a bit curly. He appeared to me like the morning dawn, beautiful as an oak with a crown, shining like the sun, but also terrifying in his gaze, like a knife that pierces, or at least to me he seemed
like that...
“Arta Elezi!...” a woman’s voice calling my name jolted me from my memories. The voice came to me as if from a deep well and with an echo like from an abandoned house. I turned my head in the direction the voice was coming from. At the half-open door stood a nurse. She was neither inside nor outside, and from there she began to speak again.
“The head doctor will be here in half an hour!... You, make sure you are prepared for a general check-up!” she said in a sharp voice, and without waiting for my answer, she left.
The word “Thank you” stuck in my throat, because she just closed the door.
I remained astonished with my head turned toward the door, and I don’t know how the door’s keyhole pulled me back into my movie again. Like a butterfly that loses its way, I entered that keyhole with my memories.
* * *
Tomor, Toska, and Artan decided to go out again this evening to the bars filled with young people, and have fun just like the night before. I felt tired from the day. Swimming in the open sea had exhausted my body a bit, as we had climbed among winding and jagged rocks. Our trip was full of surprises. We found ourselves on a sort of rocky terrace, which stood like a knife over the bay of the
sea, further on entering deep gorges. There the rocks rose among one another, and one rock blocked the other’s view of the shores, while the sun barely penetrated to the bottom of the valleys. I had never seen a place with such beautiful shores and landscapes. Intoxicated by the rustling of the wind through the gorge, I listened to the battle
of the sea balms and called out for us to swim. Everything was gray, light, almost as white as milk. All of this had drained my strength, but the strong sun had also done its job. It had beaten down on my shoulders, which now felt as if I had been scalded by boiling water. Tomor’s teasing weighed on me even more. He was constantly teasing in the form of jokes, but to me they seemed like attempts to
get Artan and me to grow at least a little closer. But it seemed I wouldn’t be left alone. Artan decided to stay with me, despite the effort I made to be left by myself. Those efforts were in vain. I wanted to get dressed and go with them, but they were going to stay out late. I had to stay, but I also didn’t want to stay...
It was the first time we were alone in a hotel room by the seaside. The views through the windowpanes were breathtaking.
After they left, I remained dazed in front of the window. To hide my unease, I reached out my hand and
opened the balcony door. Barefoot, I went outside. I leaned against the balcony railing and looked down. The sound of the waves was so close, so near, that you could hear them rubbing against the shores. It sounded as if it were passing right through the middle of the room. It felt as if they were caressing my body with that sound, with those waves, on
its journey. The waves retreated and came back again to cool my body. I stayed there for a long time, under the pretext of watching out for Tomor and Toska. I was trying to do something, but what was I to do?...
I felt my soles stepping on the sand we had brought in today from the beach. From the heat I felt,
I lifted one foot and made a caressing motion against the other leg. It occurred to me to go inside and get a pair of sandals, so the skin of my soles wouldn’t burn. The balcony concrete had also absorbed a great deal of heat from the sun’s rays. It seemed as if it had turned into a pizza oven. But my feet were not pizzas, so I had to protect them, because they don’t have mouths to
speak. Taking large steps so as not to burn my soles, and without looking at all, I reached the balcony door and felt an obstacle. He was standing at the threshold of the door. I slowly raised my head. My gaze met his body. We looked into each other’s eyes! Oh God, I felt so awkward! I was pressed against his body, like a little chick that
seeks its mother’s warmth.
His soft gaze captured my body and my mind. My whole body was trembling, like the body of a newborn lamb trying to take its first steps. Oh God! What was happening to me? Why all this unease and this shivering? Why was I afraid of his approach? I remained nailed to the spot, conversing with my conscience. A statue that does not move. A statue waiting for the visitor to come and observe it, and be mesmerized by the carving the artist who created it has done. My body had taken the shape of a mannequin posing in the window of a
fashion store. But I was not a mannequin! Why was I standing like this? “Pull yourself together, Arta!...” I heard my inner voice! But tell me, how could I pull myself together in front of him, I asked my conscience? I wanted to take a few steps back, but his hand and his voice interrupted me.
“Arta!... The sun really burned you today!” With his hands, which at that moment seemed wonderful and perfect to me, he touched my sunburned shoulder.
“Ahhhhh!... Don’t, it hurts!” I pulled back with a grimace of pain on my face. I didn’t know if I was making this grimace because of his hand, or because of the burning of my feet, which were still standing on the oven-like concrete of the terrace.
Bringing his head close to my mouth, he asked me in a low voice if I wanted him to put some cream on my shoulders. “Maybe it will help you a little,” he said, and all the while he stayed close to my lips.
He let go of the balcony door frame and directed his hand toward my face. He extended his fingers and touched my lip, then lowered his head and pressed his lips against mine, as if he wanted to measure their temperature. I didn’t have a temperature, or maybe I did, but not the temperature of an illness; I had a fever, a fever of love, a fever of arousal. What did I feel?... What did I see?... I remember that what I felt, first of all, I cannot express in words, because my tongue and my mind were not used to mentioning such feelings. They went wonderfully with the joy I was feeling at that moment. My soul felt ablaze. I was no longer vigilant, a trait that characterized my person. Where had my vigilance vanished? How could I get it back? Did I even want to get it back?!...
I was wearing a short dress, cut quite shamelessly low at the chest. I had put my hair up so it wouldn’t touch my sun-scorched shoulders. He too was wearing short, army-green pants, and
a thin sleeveless shirt. It looked good on him, and I could see the muscles in his arms. Pressed against his body like that, he pulled me even closer to him, as if he wanted to thrust all of me into his soul. As if he couldn’t get enough just from the pressing of our bodies. We lost ourselves amidst kisses and caresses.
Amidst the kissing, he picked up my body in his arms as if it were a light leaf, and began to walk across the room. The room had white walls, the fabric curtain was billowing. In the middle of the living area stood a wall arch that separated it from the bedroom. We left the balcony, which had a white railing, and found ourselves in the bedroom. There he let me down from his arms, but not from his body. With his soft and wonderful hands, as if they were the healing hands of a magician, he slowly slipped down the straps of my dress. The dress slid slowly down my body like a sea wave, like a light kiss, and gathered down at my feet. I remained before him as Eve must have appeared before Adam in the Garden of Eden.....
