Marie Has Left The Building

I was unaware of my denial until a sad and quiet moment on Tuesday when I experienced an epiphany. I was entering my building that evening when, having just stepped across the threshold, I was ripped from the present, now the past, via flashback, into the past, now even further into the past, paster you might say. It resembled an out-of-body experience. My periphery was blurred, for dramatic effect, as I saw myself promenading toward the main doors out into a sun-filled day but stopping short in front of an open door, framed by large moving boxes, that was Marie's suite. Yes it was certainly the past, and yet my memory of the event seems to have been blotted out until this, I mean that, very moment.

Good Lord, did it really happen?! Ah, but the only possible answer, lest I sink deeper into denial, was that Marie had, indeed, moved out of the building. How sad. Marie was a sweet friend, a delicate soul, and a proper lady of the class that I can only dream of aspiring to.

Her voluptuous form shall no longer tease the halls. I shall miss the chance run-ins in the laundry room punctuated by suggestive, but never vulgar, stories of her rendezvous with gentlemen suitors. Yes, Marie was a mature woman, but still exuding charm and, dare I say, sexual appeal that still had the power to fluster men of all ages. She was an enviable leader for the rest of us vicarious ladies that have matured less gracefully. Where she is a red pomegranate sweetened over time to mouth watering anticipation, I am merely an old slut.

I shall miss the reassuring aura pulsating warmly from her former apartment, as if to say 'welcome friend, enter and be at peace for you are safe here under my watch' as I passed.

Today there is an echo in the halls, but hollow and thin. The air is chilled; and, somehow, the building feels less sexy.


Posted by Yvette