Thread: Harry meets Wiwin

Harry looked at his wife, lying with her back towards him. Her long black hair felt soft in his hands, and he looked at it as it was the first time. His heart jumped up as feelings of love welled up in him. She is so beautiful, so damned beautiful, sometimes he became scared of the beauty he saw, and was to afraid to look at her. Her smile could kill him. The sex they had before was, as always, great. So easy to just enjoy her slim body, she showed no shame or inhibitions, like he was used to. The more he made love to her, the more free he felt.

“Wiwin”, he whispered, but she was already asleep. He put his nose in her hair and inhaled. The tjiktjaks on the ceiling where fighting, one of them lost a tail. Harry sighed and had a small battle with dark thoughts from another life. “Damned, I am going to be so happy” he thought and fell asleep.

…..

Harry and Wiwin met in a café on the beach. She was interested in him, and absorbed every answer he gave. Harry felt scared, because this could not be true, a shining girl, only 23 years old, suddenly there. She must be after my money, or a prostitute or something. But she had to go, because she worked in a restaurant further down the road, “Warung Made”, the best seafood in town. He promised her to come by and eat something. He felt relieved. She works in a restaurant.

There weren’t many guests in Warung Made, so she joined him at his table. The boss wasn’t there, and the other girls were giggling behind the counter when she sat down. She wanted a fruit juice, but only after persuading her. The food was not as good as he had hoped for, but the talk with Wiwin made up for it. She was from Java, Jember. Her family, mother, father and sister lived there. She came two years ago to Bali, to make some money. Her family is very poor, and her father works in the sawah’s. Sometimes, when she is able to, she sends some money to Java, but the restaurant isn’t paying her that much. Once in a while she goes to her family, for instance in December when there is a Muslim festival. She could speak English pretty well, although sometimes it seemed that she said she understood, but not really did. She learned English by speaking to tourists in the restaurant, and wanted Harry to teach her. They agree on going to see a waterfall the next day.

Wiwin doesn’t ask Harry for money after sleeping with him, she seems happy, and has to leave early in the morning, to go somewhere with a friend. Harry’s longing to become a HP rises to the max. 5 days later he borrows 500.000 to Wiwin, because her mother is sick, in Java. Harry has 1 week more on Bali, but promises Wiwin to come back soon.

Harry is on his flight back home, he cannot stop thinking of Wiwin, he cannot remember whenever he felt so
good the last years.
Harry is looking around, he is watching some of these tiny Javanese girls, he can see the insecurity in their eyes, he is amused to watch them on their first intercontinental flight, he has to smile how scared they are listening to every single noise, while the guys beside them are sleeping.

Harry holds the photo in his hands, the photo which shows Wiwin and him in front of Tanah Lot at the sunset,
he cannot forget her face, when he has to enter the gate at the airport, he cannot forget the tears in her eyes.
He tries to imagine, how it would be to take her home, he wishes her at his side now, but at the other hand, he knows, this would never work, she would never get used to this different world, she would become unhappy there. So his glance gets something like compassion, when he looks at the girls in the airplane.

Harry is not like this guys, he is civilized, he is well-read, he is quite the opposite to this fat and ugly type of men, in their Bintang t-shirts, he knows about the impracticable intention, to make a relationship like this work at home, he knows there would be only one way to stay together with Wiwin, he had to move over to her.
Harry is thinking about his life, he is thinking about the last relationships he had, he is thinking about the sense of life.

Harry has a good job, he is a bookkeeper at a factory, which is producing glass for windows, his job is not very exciting, but he has a good income, everyday at 8:00 h he enters his office, everyday at 13:00 h he is going for lunch, everyday at 18:00h he is leaving his office.
He is not like the others, he is not wasting his time hanging out in the pub after work, he puts something into the microwave and lights a candle, he likes classical music and is proud about his comprehension for this, he has a high-end audio system and is listening to Bela Bartok or Arnold Schönberg.
Harry loves to read, in his small apartment he has hundreds of books, he was reading Kant, Nitsche, Satre, but also many catalogs about arts.
Sunday afternoon, Harry spends mostly by visiting the one or other exhibition, he visits galleries and museums.
at one of this afternoons, he met his last girlfriend, she was a teacher for disabled children, she was a bit chubby, she was wearing thick glasses and was living alone like him since many years.
She could talk for hours without a break and was glad for his audience, sometimes she allowed him a short intercourse, although she didn't really liked it, she always told him, that she is seeking for a higher, platonic level for a partnership, afterwards she went straightly to the shower and he had to leave, because of the neighbourhood.

Harry also remembered the short time he spent together with the divorced woman, three years ago.
He though it would be good to have something like a family now, he thought he would be in the right age for something like this, he tried to become something like a father for her three children, took a lot of efforts to achieve their faith, there were no other topic than the children, he got to know other parents with children, they had garden parties with children, birthday parties with children, school parties with children.
Harry took the children to bed, when she was going out for her weekly women meeting, until he realized, that she was cheating on him.

Harry is calculating, how long will it take to save the money to return to Wiwin, he is thinking about, how would it be, to leave everything behind, why not to go to Bali, what could he do there to earn money, he feels envy for all the expats, would he have the courage to take this step, would this be the gate to happiness.

Harry is thinking about his older brother John.
John was a welder, after his wife left him with the children and he got divorced, he got fed up with the women at home, after work he always spent the evenings at the pub, a few times Harry joined him, Harry felt remembered at the song "Piano man" from Billy Joel.
John went one time a year to Thailand, he always went to the same hotel, to the same bars, met the same people there, he was longing the whole year for the two weeks of vacation at Pattaya and the most of all, he ordered every year the same lady per fax.
John heard so many stories regarding Thailand, there was a Asia snack bar at the car-park of the supermarket, every evening a community of Thailand lovers met there.
The Vietnamese family, which holds the small stall were selling Singha beer there and the guys were talking about their experiences, they were dreaming of their next time to go and they were sharing the pictures of their
last staying there.
Harry was disgusted, he had no comprehension for this kind of behaviour, he had a different understanding of moral, although he could not deny, that the images of the topless, cute, little things on white sheets turned him on, but he would never confess this.
John worked the whole year for this time, he lost all the interest for women at home, they were not comparable to the Thai-girls, he was just to tired for all this endless discussions, it was to complicated to him, with 48 yrs, he died for cancer alone in a medical-centre, nobody was at his bed.

Harry is still holding the photo in his hand, he knows that he had to change something in his life, he is thinking about the next week, at the time in his office, at the grey sky, at the lonely evenings, at the people in the subway.
He is thinking about the tax deposition, his life insurance, microwave food, he has still the smell of her hair in his nose and he feels a tear is running down his cheek.

Originally Posted by Thorsten

Arnold Schönberg.

Verklarte Nachte.

Oooohhhhh...

Welcome Thorsten !!!

Originally Posted by Py

I am going to vote for love as a recent turn of events in my life have me feeling rather optimistic.

What is her name ?