My Indian Girlfriend Dances

Children crying and asking for things they’d been taught to want. Their parent’s, merely older credit-card- carrying caricatures. Each scene was punctuated by a chorus of canned laughter. The city portrayed was as faceless as any other, the same global-franchises with contemporary office-blocks doing their dance of efficiency upon the sepulchres of the resident architecture. The footage was carefully choreographed, so as to not have any readily identifiable signs or images A music store window, poster-tiled to infinity with the blonde embodiment of keen market research. Drivers swearing at drivers swearing. Liquid rainbows slipping down drains, to be of no thought or consequence again. A laden pram probing the traffic like some absent-minded insect. The images flashed by, quicker and quicker, to the point of subliminality. The laughter sped too, and became a howl. A white screen, and silence. A grassed field greened the screen, with the distant blurred silhouettes of trees. In the. The important thing now was just to survive. I just wanted to go back home and see if my marriage can be saved, as unlikely as that seems now.I tilted my head back, groaned in pain and despair as I opened my mouth wide and stuck out my tongue as ordered.Cornell was in no hurry. He kept me there in that uncomfortable and humiliating position while we stared into each other's eyes. He plumbed the depths of my despair while I explored the blackness of his monstrous soul, if it can be said that he has a soul.I watched as he slowly worked up a big ball of spit in his mouth. The lens of the movie camera came in for an extreme close-up and Cornell chose that moment to spread his large lips and let go that disgusting glob of saliva.Our eyes remained locked as that revolting mess succumbed to gravity and dropped in what looked to me like slow motion, taking forever to cover the six inches that separated our mouths.I winced as it landed on my tongue. But I didn't move. I didn't pull away.He.
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