Lena sits in the back of a taxi, the windows are open, the still warm night air flows into the car and blows the curls out of her face.
The enlightened Berlin passes her by. This time the taxi takes a different route than the one Sebastian took to Mitte early this evening, namely through Friedrichstraße, past the wonderfully illuminated Quartier 206 and then across Leipziger Straße. Lena looks thoughtfully out of the window.
She doesn’t know what to think about Sebastian yet. It was just fantastic, the sex with him – absolutely great. The whole evening was beautiful, romantic and nice. Talking is also possible, and he is somehow… smart. Of course, he is not the type for a one-night stand, but with a small child in a relationship, she is not really ready for it. And a lesbian wife who he hasn’t divorced yet, who despite everything seems to be jealous somehow and continues to supervise his life? This all sounds like trouble. What’s she got to do with it? For a patchwork family, even if it might work, she is too young, she thinks; she doesn’t feel like it at all. She wants to experience something, travel, enjoy adventures, here and elsewhere.
On the other hand: actually, everything is perfect. The fact that Sebastian has a little son is a guarantee that she won’t slip into a relationship right now – if she stays consistent! I’m sure he’ll understand that she doesn’t feel like playing a mommy. And still wants to enjoy sex with him!
The lights of Potsdamer Platz pass by her. She likes this little neighborhood, she says. Thoughtfully, she looks out of the window. At that moment, her cell phone gives a signal that she’s received a message. She takes it out of her purse and reads. Sebastian texted her. “Dear Lena, it was wonderful with you tonight, I would very much like it to go on with us. S. xx” She smiles and puts the phone back in. Despite her thoughtful doubts, the text conjures up a smile on Lena’s face.
Yeah, she thinks it’ll go on too, Sebastian!
She moves closer to the open window of the taxi and holds her pretty nose into the Berlin night wind, takes a deep breath, smells the exciting things that are waiting for her out there.
At the traffic light in front of the New National Gallery, that lies there tonight as a dark glass box, the signal from the mobile phone sounds again. Lena brings it out of her handbag. What she reads, she can hardly believe. Her smile dies in the light of the cell phone screen. The message doesn’t really fit into her current plans. She’s reading it for a second time. “Hi Lena, I’m coming to Berlin to visit you at the end of the week. Miss you. Let me know if it fits. Kiss, Tom.”
Once again, she puts the cell phone in her handbag. That’s typical. How many times has she waited for Tom, longed for him, and anticipated such a text. Now she has just removed herself from him and again he places himself in the middle of her life! She’ll answer him tomorrow. Of course, it fits, but she hadn’t expected Tom to make a move and actually come to Berlin. And certainly not so soon, she just left yesterday morning. Unbelievable, she thinks, what has happened in a short time; it’s only been four days. But this is just the second day, the second evening. Annoyed, she notices that she is excited and is looking forward to Tom like a child. She doesn’t want that. Sour at herself, she raises the window and leans back in the dark taxi seat.
Marian opens the door to his attic. He immediately walks through all the rooms to open windows and patio doors and let the accumulated heat out into the cooler night. He registers that Lena is not at home. He is carrying his jacket in his hands; he throws it on the sofa in the living room. At the kitchen counter, he mixes a weak Gin Tonic (little Gin, much Tonic; he has to work tomorrow) with lots of ice. With a drink in his hand, he steps onto the terrace. He leans over the railing and looks into the open courtyard with the many trees standing on the opposite street. Their dense foliage rests still as if they were asleep. There’s no wind at all this summer night.
What’s he gonna do?
That question again. He sees the sweet, tender Martha in front of him. How she lay gorgeously beautiful in front of him on the kitchen table, naked and fragile. And how he licked and licked her, licked the bright red cherry jam out of the smallest hidden places of her pussy, tickled out the secret sources of lust with his tongue, sucked it out. And how beautiful it was when she had an orgasm. And she wasn’t as shy as he knew her from before; pale and inconspicuous, but she knew what she wanted. She really surprised him. What a bummer. He’s not gonna fall in love with her, is he? But, is it really a crush? The feeling was quite bombastic, even overwhelming. Especially the security after sex, he didn’t know that feeling before. That’s when he got really soft. And then this dream yesterday morning, before he woke up… he actually saw her in it as in a vision – the woman he wants.
But then the cold infusion came poured over his head, like the entire, half-melted contents …