Thursday, May 26, 2011

Impossible Girl - 41


The apartment felt violated. A chemical residue lingered in the air and the cushions on the couch were in the wrong spot. Put in place by someone who didn’t know where they belonged.

She opened her wardrobe and imagined gloved hands touching her clothes, checking the pockets and lining, looking for clues… evidence of wrongdoing.

The Impossible Girl sat on the bed and kicked off her heels. What the f&*k was she going to do?

A bottle of duty free vodka was sitting on the top of her luggage so she unscrewed the cap and took a swig. It took about a millimetre of the edge off. She wondered if Rowan had anything stronger in his special guitar case but then remembered the police search. Detective B*#chface would definitely have mentioned it if they had found anything illegal in the place. The blue fairies? There had been almost a full box and the prescription was legal but a quick search told her they too were gone.

She took another swig of the vodka and sat back down. Thinking of the fairies made her think of her own need. Something had changed since the night with Marc and Belle. The urge was gone. Indefinitely? The Impossible Girl had no idea what was going on but her skin had been fabulous all week and there was no itch, no climbing the walls feeling of emptiness.

From day four of Tokyo Fashion Week she had been preparing for the compulsion to strike, but it never did. Two and a half years on and the disease just disappeared? She hadn’t been able to bring herself to believe it and the thought of the long haul flight made her nervous. On her last night in Tokyo the Impossible Girl had returned the advances of a drunk Japanese male model.

They ended up in her room. He was surprised but also excited when instead of fellating him, she had punctured his inner thigh and sipped from a plump vein beside his scrotum. She’d kicked him out soon after dick in hand. He probably thought she was a freak but it didn’t matter, his lips were sealed. He was engaged to be married to a very lovely girl from a prestigious family.

Had it even been necessary? What the hell was happening? She wanted the truth and she wanted Rowan but it didn’t look like either of them was coming home to her. All she had was a litre of duty free vodka and even that was now half gone. A fat tear rolled down the Impossible Girl’s cheek. She got up to brush her teeth and gurgled with another shot.

Her phone rang just as she fell into bed.


‘It’s me…. God you sound f*#ked up’
- -

Monday, May 2, 2011