eh bien, ce n'était peut-être pas pour rien, après tout

 

And as I stare out from another window away from Jörn’s kitchen I think ….that at the end of the day…. it is the awareness of falsity and.what used to feel right —was it ….just because I ….thought ….that I mattered.but ….I think I have….and I think I still do, so…. I don’t understand 

Electra writes as e.d.

 

of course I could not write of Jörn’s case from last year as things happened and there are gaps on here where I have had to leave out details since about around this time last year as he was in deep cover —somewhere ….close to where the war has been— let us say for now

penthouse reflections e.d.

I realize now that he was lying to me even further back

it is later and I am back at the penthouse.I pace the bedroom  like a mad woman ….like a mad woman ….disappearing photos…. yes, mad woman, indeed—who used to say that—those old Greek choruses never shut up….Paris was a lie too I guess, and this new shock —I feel so sick ….I go to the window and —think ….

then realize the view from his kitchen is right where I’m standing ….

    and he is watching me….what is it then?— either let me go or come clean ….I want to tear through all the false promises with just one scrap of proof that ….

any of it was real ….to think he just wanted to play me for a fool makes me 

I draw the drape in one raging move and turn my back to it

how can I ever think I actually meant anything to him if he could be so duplicitous with zero qualms for all his disregard toward me —so I rage at the walls for awhile ….and stomp across the bedroom looking up at the walls feeling as if I am thoroughly trapped by them

and want to run.but where. and so tired of running.

Noir smörgås varm röra/orrefors Crystal clear (jmmusechroncont)

 

I look straight at Josef as I come back —he sits at the head of the table. A bit breathless. Then I notice that his sleeve is caught on the edge of the table —as though he just heedlessly rushed to his seat 

I glance at Elsa 

  who similarly ….is sat with part of her skirt oddly twisted beneath her, trapping her legs 

but it is Andreas of whom— what is he doing?

I walk over to him by the tall console table as he has his back turned so awkwardly as though he—

“Do you need help?” I go around to look at his pose from another side 

“Oh my god!” I exclaim as I see he has a tall Orrefors crystal vase cradled precariously in his arms as if—he just accidentally  ran into the table recklessly 

I catch the vase. glance as Elsa. She looks away quick but—I see the gasp of relief she tries to hide 

I pretend not to pay any mind but I do look at Josef with his caught sleeve pointedly and decide to help him. He sheepishly smiles up at me,

“tack, kära du,” he pats my hand affectionately mustering a show of composure and a glance at Elsa 

I walk over to her next as she is actually now sat at the other head of the table and as I walk towards her I look at Josef as I go,

“so, explain the purpose for Jörn to marry me. Is it the citizenship or is it the property legal clause on the Swedish opera house?”

“Svenska operahuset,” I hear Elsa whisper to herself 

“Well before—“Josef starts to say 

but at the very exact moment Andreas says,

“Both.”

Andreas’ voice is louder 

Andreas my ally. I look at him. But at that moment I hear a tap on another door behind me. This one leads out to the corridor to the bedrooms, but it is usually open, like now. So the tap cones loud on the panel of the open door. I turn to see Hanna 

“If pappa marries you, it allows him more freedom with his work in your country and—affords some extras for friendly family members; if you know what I mean,” she winks at me

Trust kids for honesty at awkward moments ….as I see Erik is sneaking out behind her 

I groan,

“smörgås varm röra,” and sit down next to Elsa as I take a moment to think ….they seem to be watching me

After a second to reflect, I get up and walk around as I think 

“I marry him—“ I point to Jörn, “you benefit because then you keep the opera house,” I say and walk to the window, “so—how does that benefit Jörn? ….diplomatic immunity?”

“It’s ….” Jörn starts to walk over to me shaking his head, “it’s more ….complicated ….”

Josef clears his throat. It a signal throat clear. Warning?

I glance at Josef 

“If I’m going to be in this family I think I deserve some ….explanation—is it work—his platinum brand —corporation? Taxes? Or is it just the usual of surpassing the visa/green card dilemma?” But no…. there’s the obvious again, 

I spin around to Josef,

“Of course! If Jörn marries me—then you as —director— are free to ….” it all dawns 

I glance at Elsa but she glances at Jörn who then shoots an angry look at his pappa ….

Jörn turns to me,

“duva….he’s my cover”



An e.d. Marker; somebody’s past/tie in

It was about 1857 or so. She was a trade with the white-man, tobacco plantation owner; she was Indian; she had long, black, straight hair and tan skin; her eyes were dark. Her beauty was spoken of.

But there was more than one of the plantation owners. There were two other sons and some daughters. This tobacco plantation was not just owned by some anonymous wealthy confederate; they had been there for generations; this plantation owner was among the country’s original forefathers via King James; and part of history. 

But the one who made the trade made her instead her concubine ….and the child that came about 

seemed not to like the line his blood came from on the male side because any rights they had was lost when the man died a confederate general on the battlefield ….that boy decided to never embrace that side of his dna and aligned himself with those he identified with; freed slaves 

He found a unity in the church and a brotherhood he needed. Not realizing he was continuing the pattern of our dna 

 

I have always felt a bind with the earth. In objects buried deep inside it, I feel so many worlds.with coins on the ground dropped yesterday —I feel their emotions who dropped it

the connection to a place is a calling for reconciliation —

as I reflect on dna memory, I have felt the imprint upon me

constantly 

All my proclivities ….all my obsessions….all my nightmares ….they draw me constantly back to the shores of those very places 

you see? I am thst screaming banshee that haunts the willows snd the groves; along the cliff sides ….and upon the paths to the hallways where once portraits hung and even longer ….so long ago, before a stone or brick changed the landscape and I felt it call me 

each time I came near

and nearer

each time I heard a familiar name ….that chill….that jab into the heart….that flash of lightening with ….all that once was….and all your faces.you were there.that is dna memory.sometimes a physical bond is passed to