Sunday, February 22, 2015

very very tired

tires in Kangirsuk, Nunavik
Lohbado barely made it out the door. Heavy parka, giant boots and hat, Lohbado staggered down the snowy sidewalk. Each winter became more difficult to endure. Lohbado realized he was entering the last phase of his mortal trajectory.

At home, he collapsed in a chair and could barely remember having gone out. His aching muscles and  joints and shortness of breath proved he had been out. He wouldn't go out again until the next day.

He could hear little noises from the neighbours, the closing of cabinet doors, footsteps on the stairs, occasional loud voices and laughter, slamming of the front door. During the night a howl of joy from next door awoke him. He listened in wonderment as a woman orgasmed. He wondered if it was really necessary to gasp and moan so loud. Maybe it was a victory cry to let everyone know how she and he had achieved the highest good, the ultimate status symbol, to ride the wave of bliss, to get the glow on, physical proof that they were living their sexuality to the full.

Lohbado drifted back to sleep. He wasn't jealous. Just the thought of so much exertion and bouncing around made him tired.

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