SWEET MANAHATTA - Very Short Stories

SWEET MANAHATTA

Very Short Stories

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Sweet Manhattan

a very short story

47, still sexy and gorgeous, thin, long legged, bouncy (gym - five times a week); three teenage boys and unconditional worshiper – husband – chiropractor, big house in Queens and psychotherapy practice (“relationships problems, mostly”), and...

- And, you know, Esther, it's like I don't care any more. Nothing excites me...

Esther is a good old friend; one of the very few who still is there.

- Nothing makes sense; it's just a game. I am a mechanical toy. Someone tightened my spring up and it unwinds itself gradually, through the years; that's all there is in it. The same emptiness, and nothing fills it up.
- I dig you. Well, I will fill up my glass, - chuckled Esther, waiving to a waiter. - Manhattan; sweet.

Esther loves her, managing to maintain their closeness with her elegant dry wit, framing her affection with it, as if to hold it firmly in place.

- So tell me, what happened. Tell me. I know all your mental choreography. I like to watch you dancing. You did not call me for nothing. Who is it this time: Arabian sheik, mobster from Chicago or some local hoodlum?
-Nothing happened. He went back to school to California. And this time it's different. He is just 26.
- And how different is it? Oh, there is something serious going on. She kissed the rim of her full sweet Manhattan glass very carefully.
- A bit too sweet for my taste.

They met at the Upper East Side bar. She brought him into her spare Manhattan apartment (inherited from her German Jewish grandma – she was her favorite). He pulled out a knife on her after half an hour: “Give me the money!”

“Sure”, she said, and knocked him out with a karate kick on a head. Sex was great afterward.

- Well, to make a long story short and sweet, our poor little booby finally found himself a dominatrix; a mommy who can stand up to him, and that what he probably needs. Lucky boy, ah? And who of us is a psychologist, darling, you or me?

Esther's wild smirk was ennobled by a display of incredibly white and natural looking teeth; a jewelry job, by the best dentist in town.

- And you are telling me about all this just now, a month after it all ended? You really know how to keep your little secrets, sweety, don't you?
She laughed again, and this time some overtones of anger and envy popped up in her voice.
- These waiters here have such horny asses; they all are gays.
She glanced at them critically.
They sat at a cafe at MOMA; their usual spot, on a balcony above kouroses, Egyptian mummies and their sarcophagi.
- And now you miss him. Oh, how sweet of you, darling.

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Manhattan (cocktail) - From Wikipedia

A classic 2:1 Manhattan, made with Canadian whisky, sweet vermouth, bitters, and a cherry. (Sweets are not sweets without the bitters - M.N.) 8/7-9/2012 angelina-jolie-sarajevo-film-festival-2011-24.jpg _________________________________________________________________________________ SWIMMINGLY   "The Swimmer"      by John Cheever               Burt Lancaster in "The Swimmer"  _________________________________________________ A surfer, gypsy soul, bar hopper, hop-hop; where to now? Animula Vagula Blandula; where to now? Beauty faded, "warts and all" blossom; where to now? Keep your sail tight, glide the waves; where to now? RIP Marvin Hamlisch - Music from THE SWIMMER (1968)  _______________________________ The Swimmer: This is my wagon, man! __________________________________   Frank Perry's The Swimmer 8/8-9/2012  ___________________________________________________________ November 21, 2013 Shower Hour; Don't Explain...