Читать книгу With My Body - Nikki Gemmell - Страница 39

You cannot dawdle away a whole forenoon

You are achingly alone, no anchor, no sense of belonging, of who you really are. But alone, you are learning what you can do with your body, your instrument, coaxing it into technicolour life.

Lune has stolen two Penthouses from the pile under her brother’s bed; she slips you one.

Lune has bribed her older sister with a year’s worth of pedicures and manicures; she buys you each a vibrator.

You squirrel your booty home.

Your hot breathlessness as you open the magazine, as you stare at the pictures. As you devour the letters to the editor at the front, the stories that transform you into something else. In the bathroom, while your stepmother is on her weekly supermarket shop, you slip out the vibrator and turn it over and over and wonder where to begin. Turn it on, turn it off, again, and hold it close, spread-eagled on the cold tiles, terrified she’ll come back.

You work out an orgasm for yourself. You’re confused by the female physiology. It doesn’t make sense, all the nerve endings are on the outside and not the inside where they should be, shouldn’t they, what’s going on? You wonder if it’s just you; if you’re built wrong.

But the clit.

The power lying dormant in it. What it can transform you into. The first time where you have completely, utterly let go.

Jolted into life. Combusted, with light.