Love Is Never Past Tense... Read Online Free PDF Page A

again? You torturer, sadist!"
    Serge clearly understood that now the day was practically lost. Why should he bother anymore with this strange girl? Now he'd hear some stories about her past romantic mishaps and how she didn’t want to repeat those mistakes. She may even tell him that she has a child (which doesn’t look to be true at all) and that she couldn't be immediately intimate with a complete stranger. And all in all, he was not her type. But glancing at her, he saw tears. Their eyes met; two big drops trickled naturally down her cheeks. But suddenly she began to laugh loudly, and Serge began to feel goose bumps running along his spine. Then, through her laughter she grabbed the wine, focused on the bottle for a minute, and tossed it away.
    "Open the next bottle," she commanded, rubbing her lips, reddened from the last bottle. Serge hurried to hand her the second bottle. She took several more sips, ate a chocolate candy, and began to smoke …
    Serge drank almost the entire bottle, leaving a bit in the bottom, and lay down on his back, attempting to understand something, but couldn’t understand anything. She took the last hit of her cigarette, had a sip of wine, and started down the slope towards the asphalt.
    They went along the riverbank, Janna again holding her silence. Both thought their own thoughts. Actually, Serge really wasn't thinking about anything. He had become a bit down. But the wine had done its job, he felt that emptiness in his head, and he decisively didn't want anything. Even her shapely, firm legs couldn't grab his attention.
    On a stone guard rail sat an elderly woman selling boiled shrimp. Serge bought a bag and walked along eating them, spitting the shells to the side. If she had turned around and left, he would just deliberately walk his way. He cooled towards her. He became indifferent to her.
    He turned on a breakwater where at the end, some fishermen sat covered with tarps to protect themselves from the sea spray, trying to catch smelts. She walked along beside him, but if she had decided to turn around at that very moment, Serge would have hardly followed her. In fact, now she was following him, and he liked it. It was dark on the pier, the wind tossed their hair, and the sea was spraying, smacking into the concrete flood wall. Gazing into the mutinous waves, they had no desire to become better acquainted with them.
    "Are you up for a swim?" suddenly inquired Janna.
    Serge handed her the shrimp and began to tug off his shirt. Janna waited, while he undressed, then grabbed him by his hand and said:
    "Listen, let it go. I was just joking. I forgot that you are a bit drunk.” And then laughingly added, “The sea seems shallow to you now."
    "Where was your pity when I was undressing? What am I supposed to do, get dressed again? What am I, a puppet? If you want—you undress me. If you want—you dress me. And then, what does it mean that I am drunk? …” Serge, considering that he had a fairly firm and sober head on his shoulders, was insulted.
    "I'll drown. Then you’ll bite your elbows. 12 Or maybe you won’t. Whatever you’d like."
    And he dove into a rather tall wave. He had a devilish desire to just drown so that his body would be ejected onto the concrete. Janna would fly over; tear at her hair and wail, "Poor me. I brought a poor young boy to his death. Oh my boy, my precious, come back. I beg you! Ohhhh! I fell in love with you! Ohhhh! Someone give him a magic elixir …"
    Serge drew up this scene in his mind, diving through the waves. But the desire to drown was gone. He floated out to open waters, and then returned … but he couldn't see the shore. The next wave picked him up, and then the shore came into view. Serge imagined Janna rushing along the concrete shoulder, and he turned back to shore.
    He crawled up onto the wet concrete, almost scraping his knee. Janna was sitting silently. Serge stood by her side, not embarrassed to take off his swimming trunks and wring them