Mary Magdalene (gospel_of_mary) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2010-12-04 08:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | mary magdalene |
WHO: Mary Magdalene
WHEN: Thursday
WHERE: An apartment building in SoHo
WHAT: Mary moving in
WARNINGS: sexual references
If Mary could call any place in this country it certainly wouldn’t be New York, not with it’s blustery winter streets, it’s cold steel-gray everything, its sharp-edged people. It’s Florida that moves at her speed, and it’s the city of Miami that sings to her. She’s had a house there since the mid eighteen-hundreds and she rents it out - sometimes for decades at a time - while she waits for neighbors to forget her face, to die, to move. The house is something that is completely hers and it’s always waiting for her to return to it. Mary never expected to play the Prodigal Son to a piece of property.
But now it’s New York, a city as good as any other for a few years. (The flip of a coin decided her fate. Heads would have sent her to the West Coast instead.)
She’d found an apartment to rent in SoHo and she’d barely been in the door before she’d agreed to help a man moving out to shift his furniture, despite the cold and the fact that all she wanted to do was curl up in her new place like a lazy cat.
But now she was home (she could get used to calling it that, she supposed) and although the place was pretty sparse there was a comfort in that. Mary liked material things, enjoyed tactical and visual joys, but she could live without them just as easily.
Evening found its way into the city and through her curtainless windows and she prayed, which for Mary usually meant lying on her bed and talking to a spot on the roof. Often she spoke like she did back in the days of Christ, when they would lie together in the darkness and speak in quiet tones. She missed him speaking back to her like that. She missed his laugh and his beauty and everything that he was. Sometimes she brought herself to orgasm and imagined that it was his fingers and not her own.
But tonight she just talked about the move, about the man with the furniture, about the shocking cold. She didn’t know when she fell asleep but he was still on her mind. Her always was.