My name is Mademoiselle Julia.

I do not exist.

I am a librarian. More or less.

It is a stormy night. Outside, the wind is screaming.

Inside, my dreams are haunting me.

I might escape. From everyday life. From the woman in me that hasn't been awake in what seems like forever.

I haven't screamed in a long time.

Somewhere inside my boredom, my body sways to the beat of a certain woman I used to be.

I take care of my ageing father.

He thinks he is an emperor. More or less.

I search for someone. someone I haven't met yet.

I am Mademoiselle Julia.

I live inside the mind of a woman who used to dream.

The church bells are ringing. They compete with the thunder slowly joining the upcoming storm. They compete with the presence of the wrinkles forming around my eyes. Gloriously announcing the second and last part of my life.

I bury my tired head on his chest. He cups it with his large hand. "I want you to show up already. I want you to exist and make all of this go away". I whisper.

My hair is very long.

My dress is longer.

I do not wear high heels. Yet I am all woman.

He cups my tired head with his large hand.

I haven't been a woman in a long time. And yet my body is awake as I melt into his.

My name is Mademoiselle Julia.

My hands are so small in comparison to his.

He slowly undresses me and suddenly my lips part and I remember what it feels like to be a woman.

Tonight, I have come out of the mind of the woman who used to dream. I am alive, and I seek recognition.

I might escape. From all the stories I never had the courage to live.

My name is Mademoiselle Julia.

I assassinate people for money. More or less.

I take care of my ageing father.

He thinks he is an emperor.

I am a show girl. More or less.

I long for an ordinary life. I must find a way to escape. Take my ageing father with me. Stop the blood that sheds continuously and mercilessly and with no regret.

I am walking in a crowded street. A busy neighborhood. I stop under a two – floored building and I call out the name of a man. A slender figure suddenly appears on the balcony of the first floor. A young man with wavy hair and a loving smile sweetly asks: "What do you want Mademoiselle Julia?"

I scream : "Cheap Sex".

My name is Mademoiselle Julia.

I live inside the mind of a woman who used to dream.

One day I decide to change everything and move to the country. I pack my bags and persuade my ageing father to come with me. For years I have been in love with a man who doesn't see me at all. My father and I are waiting for the train. My father thinks we are going to conquer new lands.

More or less.

I am wearing a small hat. Ready to embark on what seems like a new adventure. I shall stop assassinating people for money and I shall grow vegetables.

"Him, he doesn't see me at all". I whisper to my father.

My name is Mademoiselle Julia.

I live inside the mind of a woman who used to dream.

I live for pleasure. To give it. To receive it. I look at myself in the mirror. My body is voluptuous. I am in the mood for love. Continuously. I lather my body with velvety cream. My Chanel Numero Cinq transforms the inevitable sweat created by desire into barely audible sighs. My nails are painted with Burgundy red. My lips betray the sins I have ferociously devoured. I slowly lift my skirt and offer my hungry flesh to be loved and covered with his weight. He lifts my leg and it rests on his shoulder.

My name is Mademoiselle Julia.

I do not exist.

I live inside the mind of a woman who hasn't been one in a long time.

I might escape.

The church bells are ringing.

The storm has brought with it a frightening cold.

My name is Mademoiselle Julia.

I am a writer. More or less.

I sit in a deserted cafe by the beach and I slowly sip my coffee. I am writing my memoirs. Trying to understand all that has happened. Waiting for all that is yet to happen.

I do not exist outside the mind of a woman who used to dream.

Tonight it is cold. I leave the cafe and suddenly I am in my bedroom. I am wearing a lacy satin night dress. I slip next to him in the huge bed that is ours. He swiftly holds me inside his huge arms.

I whisper to him as my body melts into his:

"All I ever wanted was an ordinary life".

مزرعة "TerrAyoun" في جبل صنين: مسكن ملوّن في أرض الأحلام

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