Tuesday

i felt his gaze the moment he entered. 
medium height, broad shoulders, grey hair. 
maybe from germany. i didn\'t hear him speak. 
i crouched above the box with fish pate, pasting prices. 
my white duster heavily unbuttoned, almost completely, I realized. 
nothing underneath. it was a sultry day, and a duster 
makes you feel cramped. i liked to leave my panties at home. 
i\'m not especially pretty, the way i am, delicate and freckled, 
though with tall islanders legs, shaped by rocks and thickets. 
finished by waves, scirocco and gale taking turns. 
maybe i\'m not a beauty, but my legs are really lovely. 
he stood petrified. couldn\'t avert his eyes. 
as if he never saw a woman\'s tuft. or, perhaps, 
he never saw it under a duster. it gave it 
a special softness and enigmatic quality. and 
that little curl shiny in the counterlight: as if i 
flung a fish-hook behind a cape and a fish swallowed it 
instantly and wouldn\'t let it go. i already intended 
to get up, when his stare pinned me down. i couldn\'t move. 
it was a hypnotic paralysis, or even something worse. 
then the story got screwed up by an italian with a fat lady. 
he walked in, yelling and storming between the customers. 
together with that woman he positioned himself between us, 
in front of the refrigerator with milk and cheeses. 
nice moments are clearly short-lived. i saw the grey head 
move to the cashier. i rose and buttoned up 
three accidentally loose buttons. is it tuesday today? 
after work i\'ll stay home. that\'s all one gets from certain days. 

Utorak

Utorak

još s vrata osjetila sam kako me gleda. 
srednje visine, krupnih ramena, prosijede kose. 
ne znam je li bio nijemac. nisam čula kako govori. 
čučala sam nad kutijom s ribljim paštetama i lijepila cijene. 
bijela, visoko raskopčana kuta; tek tada sam shvatila previsoko. 
ispod nisam imala ništa. bilo je sparno, a kuta ionako 
ne ostavlja mnogo prostora. voljela sam zaboraviti gaćice. 
mislim da nisam osobito lijepa. sitan sam i pjegava, 
no vitkih, otočkih nogu, oblikovanih kamenom i šipražjem. 
dorađenih valovima, naizmjence jugom i burom. 
možda nisam ljepotica, ali noge su mi stvarno lijepe. 
on je stajao skamenjen. nije mogao odlijepiti pogled. 
kao da nikad nije vidio ženski čuperak. ili ga, moguće, 
nije vidio ispod bijele kute. ona mu je davala 
posebnu mekoću i zagonetnost. i ta mala kovrčica 
što se isticala u kontralihtu: kao da sam bacila golu udicu 
u kore iza punte, a riba je zagrizla istočasno i sad je 
ni ne pokušava ispustiti. već sam namjeravala ustati, 
kad me pogled prikovao za kutiju. nisam se uspjela mrdnuti. 
bila je to hipnotička paraliza, ili neki teži slučaj. 
priču je sjebao neki talijan s debelom gospođom. 
ušao je u dućan i galameći protutnjao između svih 
kupaca. zajedno s gospođom ispriječio se između nas, 
ispred hladnjaka s mlijekom i sirevima. 
lijepi su trenuci očito kratki. vidjela sam prosijedu glavu 
kako se udaljava prema blagajni. ustala sam i zakopčala 
tri slučajno otkvačena gumba. je li danas utorak? 
nakon posla ostat ću u kući. od nekih dana ne treba tražiti više.