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Eléni & M Move to Athens - Part 31

by Patrick M. Ohana 5 months ago in fantasy

Anthi’s Centre of Gravity

Photo of Milky Way over Heraklion by Thanasis Papathanasiou (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) on Flickr

This new series has its history in the form of several short stories, several poems, and a 13-part series that is linked at the bottom via Part 30 of this series. Anthi Psomiadou has warmly agreed to play the role of a fictional character also called, Anthi, as she had played her in the first series, but with the name, Anthi Kanéna, in this series, which she has chosen herself. I have written enough about her to know that she has become my idée fixe and the focus of all my affectionate feelings.

The Greek language has the best mathematical structure and it will be used for a new generation of most sophisticated computers because only in the Greek language there are no limits. Bill Gates

A white wall separated us again. Anthi lay in bed in her room and I lay in bed in mine, but we were in love and suddenly alone in the universe. We were the last two humans or the first two, but not Adam and Eve since we were all dressed up. Anthi was wearing a blue top and white pants, and a series of silver necklaces shining around her neck, but her feet were bare, asking to be kissed for having evolved into sheer perfection. I was wearing a blue suit and white tie, which I did not like, so the tie disappeared and was replaced by a white handkerchief in my breast pocket, which seemed to fit much better. But I was wearing white winter boots, so I understood that Athena was having fun. Come on, my beautiful goddess! I exclaimed. This is surely not Canada. The boots disappeared, and I was also barefoot, but my toenails were painted in white. Come on, my gorgeous goddess, I exclaimed again, and my toenails returned to their natural colour. My Anthi was laughing throughout this game, making me feel happy to be alive. I could not wait any longer, so I dropped to my knees and kissed her feet, one at a time at first, and then both by hugging her legs together. She dropped to her knees and we kissed as if it was the second time. As I had mentioned before, I could never forget the first time, even in a dream. It is etched in me like a gene.

Why are we dressed up? I asked Athena. Do you want to see us taking our clothes off? We were under a starry sky before, but now we were naked under a soothing shower. I rubbed Anthi’s back with my hands, listening to her, purr. Humans can apparently purr when a goddess wants them to. It was befitting my Anthi. She purred and I listened, singing to her Joe Dassin’s, Et Si tu n’existais pas (And If You Did Not Exist), a song that I had not heard in a long time. When I finished singing it, she put her right hand on my chest and knocked on my heart. I know who is knocking, I said. Are you my soul? I asked.

“Yes,” Anthi replied. “Can I come in?”

Into my heart?

“Yes! The water is not hot enough. I want to feel the warmth of your heart.”

It is wooden but it burns. It could be like hell.

“Only for a moment.”

I always thought that the soul lived in the right vagus nerve. Go ahead, come in, but only for a moment! Anthi needs you more than I do. I love her more than I love you.

“I know. I also love Anthi. At least she appreciates me. You never did.”

I still do not. I am only talking to you for her. I only love her soul. So, stay with her. Two souls are better than one.

We were suddenly under the stars again, wearing Greek tunics, and floating in space guided towards a faraway intense light. I was hugging Anthi who was smiling as we floated closer and closer to that celestial illumination, but her smile was owing to my protruding erection that refused to go down. Eros often rises at the wrong time, unless this was the right juncture. I put one of my hands—it must have been my right—on my meaning of life and caressed the fabric of the tunic that covered it. I could not stop, wanting so much more. I rubbed and rubbed it until it became wet with Anthi’s love. I wanted to eat her, literally, looking for the salt and a butter knife. It did not make sense at first, that is until Anthi moaned, “I like my butter unsalted.” I do too, I replied. But for you I would eat the world. My whole being wanted her, especially my nose that wanted to smell her wetness before my tongue would do the rest. We climaxed together but there was no fluid. It all happened in our minds as we reached the source of light which suddenly went dark.

“I cannot see anything,” Anthi said, unafraid.

We must have reached the event horizon, but I do not understand. You will always be the event. Even a black hole pales in comparison. You are my black hole. You already have my soul. My body is all that is left and it has been yours since the beginning of time.

“I can see everything now. I can see in the dark. You look white. No! You look blue. No! You look green. Now, you look like a tree. Your arms have become branches and your legs have turned into a trunk. What do I look like, my beautiful tree?”

You will always look like flowers; blue and white and divine. I love you more than the universe. I bet that it never expected that. Yet, I always knew that I would love a woman more than anything, but I did not know who this woman would be until I saw you. All my cells must have recognized you, but they were not in sync. It may have been Goddess Athena who turned my prism into a single stream. You are all there is. Nothing else matters to me. I am going to be swallowed by a black hole.

“How could I ever swallow you when I need you to be alive? Oh, I see now. We only become one. One body. One soul. One.”

Yes! You are the centre of gravity. Everything I do only leads to you. I was pulled towards you across an ocean and a sea. I could never leave you even if I wanted to. You are my raison d’être. I am home. I never thought that it would be in Greece, but then I did not think. I used to eat Greek food every day for years. It was my favourite food, and yet I am not Greek. I never broke a plate on purpose, but I broke my left collarbone, and my heart, of course. You soothe my being. You complete my thoughts. You turn me into butter. I never found the butter knife or the salt because you are both.

We floated back to Earth throughout the night, making love over and over again. I never thought that the meaning of life could be a flower. Perhaps it is the reason why I love plants so much. It makes sense for a wooden heart to fall in love with a flower, or with many of them, also called Anthi.

The Sun opened our eyes but our minds were still linked. I was able to kiss my Anthi even in daylight. Was it another gift from our Goddess? I would bet my soul that it was, that is if I had one. Anthi takes better care of it. She loves it more than I ever would. Why? you may ask. Because I always preferred the body, the now. I never cared about the later, and the whatever that comes after. Who cares? I surely do not.



I thank Anthi Psomiadou for her wonderful comments, suggestions, and nudges. At this rate of one new part every day and with no end in sight, both internal and external, this could become a long novel with a different name. For the Love of Anthi seems plausible, or O Anthi, or In Love With Anthi, or Anthi and M. Perhaps the real Anthi has a few ideas or the perfect one. Even simply Anthi or Anthi Kanéna may be the title. It would be the first time that I wrote something before its title. Anthi has changed things on more than one level. What else can I say besides, thank you?



Patrick M. Ohana

Medical writer who prefers to read and write fiction and some nonfiction, though the latter may appear at times as the former. anthi-and-m.com

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