The Wondering Workshop

Israeli authors and poets creating in English

The Morning After

Written By: Uri Lifshitz - Aug• 18•10

I open my eyes and stretch in the pre dawn light. Last night is still a blur and this morning hasn’t officially started yet. I turn on my side and see her on the floor, leaning with her back against the bed. Images of last night are rushing to my head. I toss a pillow, a forgotten scarf and a red tie off the bed so I could see her better. Her bare back is all that I can see. She must have felt my movements as I was waking up, now she’s just giving me the silent treatment. Not that I don’t deserve it.

“I know…” I say faintly “You don’t like the way I behaved last night when she was here. You think I should be stronger, not bend every time she wants me to but I’m not like you, baby. For me being held isn’t enough. I need to be inside someone to feel”, I reach out and touch her cool outline.

“I’m sorry, baby” I whisper “I know you’re right. You gave me just one piece of advice and I know it was dead on, but I just can’t do it” I pull her close, she doesn’t resist. Now she is lying next to me, facing me on the bed without making a sound. I look for soft pity but all I get is cold steel. “I know you told me to cut my losses long ago but I couldn’t. Still can’t. But you won’t give up on me, right baby? You won’t leave me?” Only now I realize that we’re more alike then we are different. We both know that the best solution is to cut, but neither one of us can do it on his own.

I give her one last sad smile and put her back into the scabbard. A man should listen to what his sword tells him.


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