I wake today from an unrewarding sleep and find myself unmotivated and listless. It is too much trouble to put on clothes, so I wrap a blanket around myself and shuffle into the kitchen, thinking perhaps that some sinfully black coffee will put me into a different state of mind, but once there I find that I can’t be bothered with the entire process of opening the cupboard and getting the beans and pouring and grinding and and and…

I didn’t want to sleep alone last night.

I think I was beautiful, in my stockings and dress and make-up. I know that I can be when I put in the effort, which I rarely do, because it’s such work putting all the lines and curves and shades and colors into the desired form that speaks of want without need, of interest without desperation. I’ve been with men who are attracted to the combination of need and desperation, and it can be satisfying in a self-destructive way, but those things never last.

Sometimes I can be self-destructive.

Sometimes I am a crazy cat lady, although I don’t have any cats.

The last time I fell asleep with a man was in a bookshop, not an appropriate place to nap, but the sofa was comfortable and I had walked for hours that day. I thought about reading my book, but first I needed to close my eyes for just a few moments, and that was my downfall. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but when I opened my eyes again, I found myself with my head resting against his chest, my hand on his knee.

I didn’t know who he was, of course. He was just another customer in the store who had the misfortune of sitting on the opposite end of a sofa that I happened to sit on.


He smelled of cinnamon.

I like cinnamon.

I shouldn’t write when I’m listless. Nothing good ever comes of it.


Leave a comment


  1. Bianca Noire

     /  January 5, 2012

    I don’t often want to sleep in bookstores and wake to strange men, but right now, I do.

    • Kameko

       /  January 5, 2012

      You can meet the most wonderful people in bookstores.

      And by “meet,” I mean “sleep with.”

      And by “sleep with,” I mean “nap on.”

      It’s a wonder I don’t get arrested more often.

  2. Sometimes, I act like a crazy cat lady, too, and I don’t have any cats. šŸ™‚ Great line.

    • Kameko

       /  January 6, 2012

      I have a million books, knick-knacks and fortune cookie fortunes collected in a tin box. Does that count in lieu of actual felines, I wonder?


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