fifth cycling trip

I was taken to a huge chamber. At least a hundred other girls were there, the one more beautiful than the next. So I didn’t understand why I was there among them. They said that this would be a special moment, and that if I was lucky I could be the chosen one for the evening, and that if I did well, then it might be for more than just one night. But no-one said what the special moment, the luck, the fact of being chosen, of doing well, the other nights cover. I had time to think, because we just stood there mutely, and nothing happened. The silence was frightening, and in the bright sunlight that was coming in, a tiny little bug panted through the chamber. I thought about how I would gladly fly away with it to the end of the world.

forth cycling trip

Safet disturbs my silence. He informs me that more ladies were brought in, and that if I wanted to I could already visit them in the evening. I don’t want to, I tell him. I want to be alone. I just want to sit, finally in silence, and stare ahead. I want neither the short, nor the high, nor the fat, nor the thin, nor the one with the big breasts, nor the one with the small breasts, nor the one with the wide hips, nor the slender, nor the black one nor the red one. Well, doesn’t anyone understand that I just want solitude? That I want to be left in peace? That all I want is him?

third cycling trip

They said I have to be beautiful. And desirable. Because if I am beautiful and desirable, then something extraordinary will happen to me. And they looked at my skin. They caressed it. They nodded in satisfaction. All four of them. They led me to the bath, it was no use protesting that I can wash myself, and that I'm shy, and that they shouldn’t be looking at my body. They said that everything they do is in my best interest. And that it will be good for me. I decided to let myself, to submit to the will of the four women, so maybe that way I’d find out sooner where I am, why I am here. I resigned to let them wash me clean. New people came, men, they lay me on my stomach and began to massage me gently. And this time I didn’t protest, I knew that despite all efforts, it will be as they want. Just that I still didn’t know what they wanted. No hair was left on me, they removed every fluff from me. Only my eyelashes and eyebrows survived. Nail painting followed, then another woman put cream on my body. I’ve never smelt such sweet odors. While they were combing my hair, I expected, more and more excitedly, what will happen to me next. And why me? After all, it could happen to anyone.

second cycling trip

I've had enough. I'm tired of never being allowed to do what I want. What I want, and when I want it. All kinds of prescriptions, rules, and I hate it. They never even leave me alone. Yet how many times I want to be alone. And the silence is so good right now. No-one anywhere. I busted everyone around me. Do not feed me, do not bathe me, do not put perfume on me, do not dress me up. How many times have I cursed the moment that I am who I am. But how many people are envious of me, how many people would like to be in my place. But now it’s good. Loneliness is good now. Silence is good. It’s good that I'm alone. I need this. I need you.

first cycling trip

I don’t even know where I am. Everywhere I look, it’s all glitter, gold, huge chambers, sweet smells and bars. And silence. Silence reigns the mysterious chambers, the mysterious palace. They only said that from today on, there will be order in my life. No confusion, no chaos, no improvisation. Everything has its place, everything has its time. And I will find out everything in time. It’s just that they still don’t know that I don’t like to wait. I want to know everything. Now. This instance. I want to know where I am, I want to know why; I want to know, it's that simple. But there is no-one near me. There is no-one who would respond.

fourteenth cycling trip

Won’t you?

I want you.

thirteenth cycling trip

The Doctor visited me, and said that there is no Zoli the Turk, that he doesn’t exist, that I shouldn’t believe in him. Or if I think that he still does, I should prove his existence, and that he loves me. I was thinking, but I found no evidence. The Doctor calmed down, he said to take my pills, and then went away and left me alone. I sat speechless for a long time, and I cried unceasingly. I thought, there was no sadness in the world that didn’t fall upon me in an instant. Until the evening I didn’t even light the fire, I was sitting in the cold room without a light until it got dark. Then there was a knock at the window, I stuck my head out, and as I looked into Zoli’s eyes, I knew there is no need for proof.

twelfth cycling trip

All day today I was scratching his door asking him to let me in, but he didn’t even respond. The windows were dark, but I knew if someone was in there, they could hear my voice. For a moment I thought the whole thing wasn’t true, that I only imagined it, but I didn’t believe it because I couldn’t believe it.

eleventh cycling trip

As the memories are coming back, many things occur to me. Among other things, the memory that once I had someone whom I lost. I also remembered that I have a husband who is that man. Once this man opened the door and walked in on us, you were just lying on me and panting loudly. But it seems that the world doesn’t only cease to be for us then, but the reverse is also true because the way my husband came in and walked out of the room was as if the two of us were not even there. But I know that you were there, you put your hat on the chair, lifted my skirt to my neck, and I came from the mere thought of you penetrating me.

tenth cycling trip

When I woke up and they asked me what my name was, allegedly I said, "Sultan, Sultan the Turk". They told me other things too, beautiful and less beautiful. I peeped under the sheet, I saw wounds on my body, and my skin became several years older. They asked me other things too, but I didn’t remember anything. Later a man came to me, he just said: if you go, don’t you come home anymore”.

ninth cycling trip

At night the following letter was stuck to my handle-bar:

"It's been three days since I wrote you, my dear. Remember? Have you noticed? I’m sitting here by your bed just watching you. I’m watching you sleep. By the way, in the meanwhile I’m solving the riddle: if I’m holding your left breast in my left hand and your right breast in my right hand, it’s possible that my arms aren’t crossed. Maybe I’m standing behind you, and I’m holding you. I won’t let you. And together with you I’m not falling down myself. I love you. "

I love him.

eighth cycling trip

All day I sat next to your bed and watched you. I realized where I know you from. After my hand accidentally touched your nipple, I held your left breast in my left palm, and your right breast in my right palm, and all of a sudden it dawned on me. I had said that I will get lost in time, and so it happened. I didn’t understand many things around me. The people spoke an unknown language, they said “zip file, email, skype, porn”. But as I look at it, these doctors are stupid, they don’t touch you all day long, just watch the flickering images on the wall, so you just believe me, I'm here beside you, and from now on I will stay here. When I put my hand between your thighs, in an instant your everything and my everything were wet, I didn’t even have to move to come. Before falling asleep, I read you out fragments from the winding past of cycling, but after I still didn’t sleep, I kept watching you.

joint cycling trip

Only rarely do I get in the zone. Today, however, I got in, and almost stayed in as well. I walked a huge flower in the snow for you, so it became snow, flower. I looked at it from above, even though I knew it would be hard to find my way back in time. As I walked, suddenly you strolled beside me in the whiteness. You were holding my hand. Along the way we saw a raven and a dead dog, the dog's head had already been half eaten by the foxes. “Listen to the silence”, I whispered, and you listened. Later I found a letter in my pocket which read, it’s the angels who are perfect and not us, the flawless. I recognized it was the black priest’s handwriting. When we got out of the zone, at the end of the road stood our bike that I had long thought to be lost.

sixth cycling trip

And the snow kept falling. Slowly it wrapped everything, the bike tracks behind me as well, so I often looked back because I was afraid that I would never find the way back to the place I want. It must have been a long time since the gate of the graveyard was opened; the door handle was also rusty. I looked for a gap in the fence; I stepped over it to get in. I left the bike on the ground, nobody was passing by there anyway. I didn’t want to be scared and I wasn’t scared. I thought, dancing is happier among the living because I step to the left once so I can step to the right as well. Nothing is easier than that. The dance of the dead is simply more relaxed, it doesn’t matter which way you step nor how many times. I thought, I didn’t say it because I didn’t know how to say it, that once I worried so much that I cycled the whole night in frost and snow. I didn’t have lights, so the coachmen yelled at me. But now I didn’t know where to go, so I just tossed and turned sleeplessly. At the end of the cemetery I found the grave that I was looking for, but the name was not on it: it faded over the long years.

fifth cycling trip

I just stood there and watched her, motionless. I didn’t dare to touch her, her body was so beautiful, and I was also scared that if I touch her she will vanish, like a passing dream. My tongue started just in my mind. I started at her navel. Slowly I circled in the little pit, and then I also licked around it. I made larger and larger circles, I wandered around her whole belly. Her skin was incredibly velvety and appeared to have been dusted with glitter powder; tiny, sweet little granules stuck to the tip of my tongue as I was passing around. My hand accidentally touched her left nipple, and I tickled the right one with my mouth. Warmth flooded her chest, and her nipples began to swell. I was chewing them with my teeth. I tried to bite as gently as possible so as not to hurt. I felt that my hands started down her belly, when the door squeaks, I open my eyes and I know I must get out of here at once.

forth cycling trip

All day I browsed through an old family album. I tried to discover people I know in the photos, but I couldn’t find anyone. When I was closing one of the windows overlooking the street, a piece of broken glass cut my finger. I watched if I was leaving any bloodstains after me, but the snow remained white. I sat on the garden swing too and swung myself silently for several minutes. It was very good, a lot of memories came to my mind. Today I looked more at the woman who seemed familiar at the clinic, and while I was covering her naked body, my hand accidentally touched her left nipple.

third cycling trip

When I woke up I remembered a sentence, then I kept repeating it all day. “It’s the women I love, I have always loved women”, I kept saying, although I don’t even remember when the last time I was with a woman was. I mean I did, but my body didn’t anymore. I had two apples and a bread roll for breakfast. For a long time I was looking at the knife blade and moving it up and down in front of my face, but I couldn’t decide weather my eyes seemed brown or green in it. I got to the clinic in time although I took a detour, the sun was shining in my face and its light dazzled me. Before the rounds I had time to look through the beds. The day before yesterday a young woman was brought in, her body was full of bruises and she was so frozen through that she had hardly been brought back to life. The professor had examined her several times, later an unknown doctor appeared too, and after lengthy consultations they decided it would be best if they tied her down. I stood next to her bed for a long time, her face seemed familiar from somewhere. “Have beautiful dreams”, I whispered to her at last.

second cycling trip

While I was coming home, over the hill, I ran out of breath, and I had to stop for a moment. I leaned the bike against a tree, and set off straight into the thick of the forest. Everything was very white around me, and some unknown whiteness was drifting from the sky. All along, I felt like someone was holding my hand. I also heard a female voice, as if she had shouted after me “Zoli, Zoli”, but when I looked back I didn’t see anyone. Then I remembered the incident from yesterday, and suddenly the blood ran out of my brain. I felt an irresistible desire to touch myself, and I did so. I was rough and firm. I came quickly. At the end I embraced the first tree and wiped my wet palm into its cortex. On the way back I met a man who must have been going to steal some trees, I nodded to him, but he didn’t deign to answer me.

first cycling trip

I had a bread roll and two apples for breakfast. While I was peeling off the skin of the fruit, the knife blade glinted in the sun, and for a second my face reflected in it. I looked at it, but in the first moment I didn’t recognize myself. Today I worked a lot, and it was only late at night when I managed to arrange everything. In the evening I went for a ride with my bicycle, the moon was shining on me, it was cold, but I didn’t feel it for a minute. When I finished the round, my heart leapt because it felt like someone was thinking of me strongly. For a moment my voice faltered, and memories began to appear, I don’t know where from. But all of them were deep, and painfully beautiful. While taking a bath, I discovered a small thorn in my left forefinger, then I sucked it until all trace of it was gone forever. Last night I dreamed of a chapel, I had to pray on my knees a lot to calm my soul. Women ran around me in black scarves, and grinned at me with their bad teeth. But finally I escaped.

fifteenth cycling trip

Lead by a sudden impulse, I hop on my bike and set off for wherever the road takes me. I have no destination, but I do have a goal: to find Zoli, wherever he is. I ride in the snow for hours, lights come towards me, and people shake their fists at me, but nothing interests me, I just pedal steadily ahead. I rove over the familiar places, the parks, the groves; I ramble all the places where I have been with Zoli, where Zoli took my hand, where Zoli tickled my tongue with his tongue, where I could lay my head on Zoli’s shoulder. And I know that I am right, and not my husband. Zoli certainly does exist, and it’s not just me imagining him for myself. And I remember how much emotion, how much beauty, how much care, how much kindness he brought into my life. I cut across hedge and ditch, and I am sure that I’ll find him somewhere. Then, everything goes black, and when I come round again, I have bruises all over my arms and legs, I ache all over, there are thorns and leaves in my hair, I don’t remember anything. But I do know that the bite on my thigh comes from him. The snowflakes cover my body slowly, and slowly everything becomes white around me.

...

I think I have a minute left to write. What can I write in this time that I haven’t already written? Maybe just that I love you. Although I have written it many times recently, even though I’m not used to writing it down, nor to saying it, but you should know that whenever I write it, always and again I feel only that I really love you a lot, and I have never, and perhaps I will never, love anyone like this. And it ends here. It’s starting to get very cold.