Ennui Canto 1-The Song of the Silk Cord It is well known that everyone dies. On the other hand, it is debatable whether anyone really is alive. Marie and Lilly probably will die, but the point of this account is to attempt to determine whether or not they ever really lived. With this in mind the march through boredom and despair begins with two young girls on an idyllic summer day. Marie was the older of the sisters. This young woman was tall and thin. She had cool blue eyes that drew you into a mind that was completely and utterly incomprehensible. Her body was well shaped, round breasts perfect waistline. Really, Marie was an ideal beauty. And then there was that laugh of hers, oh the young girl laughed in such a way, that.., well allow the author no more digressions on her laugh, that will, I suppose, come later in this story. Lilly, the younger sister was short; around five foot three, with green envious eyes. The green eyes bore a sign of usurpatiousness that struck a deep contrast with the incomprehensibility of dear Marie’s cool blue. Whilst Marie was outwardly easy going, and charming, Lilly remained ever quiet and reserved. Sometimes bottling things up inside so long that they would explode all at once flooding the unfortunate trigger with all of her problems and painstaking desires. However, for her reservation, she lacked the grace of Marie who walked as though she was gliding through air. The two girls had grown up in a small town with a mildly abusive father. He had been known as the town drunk for quite some time. However, their mother had been considered the most beautiful woman in the town for quite some years. She had a voluptuous body, and curly blonde hair, with turquoise eyes. The woman had been known for her gentle kindness towards everyone she met, and had an equal reputation for hospitality. How their drunken lout of a father had ever copulated with such a angelic creature had always puzzled the town, but Anne, would always tell her daughters and the other members of town, that you don’t have much say when it comes to love. The author would truly agree. Love is such a strange and brazen thing, and often enough, the person we love will always seem more pure, more innocent, and more beautiful to us than they ever would appear to anyone else. The first tragedy to befall the two sisters was the mysterious death of their mother. Anne had grown very sick and remained bedridden for weeks. When she finally died the old drunk received a rather large life insurance payment. Apparently he had invested quite a lot in getting such a large payout. The father abruptly abandoned his daughters and headed west. The people of the town were reported to be gossiping about the circumstances of Anne’s death. Most suspected a constant small dosage of a relatively untraceable poison. Whatever the circumstances the girls felt that they had to leave their small town and make a new life for themselves in the city. Lilly and Marie packed up their few possessions and bade farewell to that quiet town of their idyllic youth. Now it would only serve as a reminder of a dead mother and a drunken father. Lilly took a job making coffee for bourgeoisie types. On Fridays there was even some live music, which caused Lilly to develop a more bohemian outlook on life, it was widely rumored that when she was not sketching in a little notebook, she wrote poetry about the banality of life. Marie took a job at a small bookstore. The proximity to such much knowledge excited Marie to the depths of her soul. She was always reading about revolutionaries, and philosophers. Each line condemning the peaceful petite-bourgeoisie lifestyle her and her sister began to lead. Thus it was so that the two girls carved out a new life for themselves in the big city. Their home was nice enough, although it was only a one room studio apartment. The sisters had made the place all their own. Marie put a large red Ché poster on the wall, and her sister chose a less known author from France. The two ladies’ idols looked over their hardwood floor and round Turkish rug. The rug itself had a rather funny story of origin it had been acquired late one Wednesday night. Marie and Lilly were quite intoxicated walking home from a bar, and accidently walked into the district of town where most of the people were from Islamic countries lived. They wandered around until a Turkish man waved them into his shop. He was a caricature of all the worst western stereotypes, but also a warm and friendly man. Being of a more traditional upbringing he scolded the young ladies for being out so late and with no escort. So, after convincing Marie and Lilly to purchase a rug he sent his son to escort the two girls to their home. The son was about eighteen and laughed with the tow ladies as they stopped in at another bar on the way home. His name was Khalid, but he went by K to make things simple. He turned out to be a good guy, and honest friend to the two girls. They were even invited to his wedding, a rather large and charming fête. His wife spent many nights with the girls teaching them how to cook; Marie in particular was severely domestically challenged. In these peaceful days the two girls developed an appreciation of their new home. It had replaced in so many ways all the things that were missing in their previous residence. In fact this new sense of stability, friendship, and order had made the girls quite happy. Their days were spent peacefully. Although happiness like all human endeavors is difficult to maintain, and the momentous calmando is followed by a boisterous crescendo. It is clear though, that the days spent working at the coffee shop, and book store, were some of the happiest of the two sisters’ lives. In fact it can be argued that they were for a moment completely satisfied. And if happiness is to be measured by a degree of consanguinity to material fulfillment than the two were quite happy, and all of their needs were fulfilled. However one must also take into account the contradictory forces that pull at human beings’ lives. They are a tripartite of three simultaneous stressors. A person is at once their past, present, and future. Lilly and Marie were not any different. It is difficult to understand the future they had in store for themselves, unless one magnifies the amount of happiness that they shared in those blissful days. On a lovely November night the two girls were on a double date with two boys from the Café. They had eaten at a charming Indian restaurant then went for a long walk on the beach. After which the girls consented to the boys’, Ivan, and Rick, request to go out for drinks at the bar the Surety. The Surety was a beautiful bar that had been built in the eighteen twenties. The tables were solid oak, and the structure was far sounder than any of the new places that had popped up over the years. The sisters loved this little bar, and many a fine nights were spent with Khalid and his wife drinking and laughing. Once inside the two girls waved to Khalid and promptly joined with him his wife and their two suitors. The waitress came upon them in a rather lovely outfit full of ruffles, the goal being to make the place feel as authentic as if it really were still the olde days. Khalid was drinking a cabernet sauvignon, and his wife was having coffee. She did not drink, but was always fun for company all the same. Marie ordered herself an imported beer, something from Germany or Austria; it had a strange name like “Rotundschwarzetod bier” it had a picture from the middle ages of a man dying of plague on it. The caveat was that the sick man had a beer in his hand and was winking. It was very dark sheik. Lilly had ordered herself a gin and tonic. She always had a soft spot for gin. It had been that way ever since she had first read about it in school. The British use to use the beverage to cover up the terrible taste of their malaria medicines. Rick elbowed Lilly to indicate to her that an old man was staring at her. At that moment Marie was laughing with Khalid about some poor person who his father had sold eleven carpets to. The gentleman had come to the store to use the restroom and left thirteen hundred dollars poorer. As Lilly’s eyes met with the fat old drunk staring at her, a terrible revelation became apparent. The fat old drunk staring at her was none other than her fat old drunk of a father. Lilly quickly nudged Marie, who so elegantly expressed things by saying “Oh, fuck”. Rick and Ivan abruptly asked the two girls what was wrong. Lilly and Marie decided they had to go and speak with him, so with great ease they finished their drinks and approached the old man. It is often the case that our fathers are allegedly our models for God. We imagine God as we would like to imagine our fathers. This is imprinted at a very young age. However for Lilly and Marie there was little love between them and this old drunk. In fact the two sisters had all but forgotten him in their peaceful new lives. His arrival had broken the peace and tranquility of the day. It was the old man that spoke first, and a derogatory slur he stated, “Oh if isn’t my two whores of daughters”. To this Lilly promptly replied that “You look almost as bad as you smell.” Marie, remaining calm asked him what brought him to the city. He slurred out “Well when I returned to town I found you two sluts had left so I decided to go looking for you”. Marie reluctantly invited their father back to the apartment. The entire walk their was filled with complaints of how he was cheated out of all his money in Vegas, and how even his daughters ignored him like he wasn’t even alive, leaving out the obvious fact that it was he who had abandoned them and not the other way around. He then told the girls how he had decided that they would have to take care of him, being appropriately required by sanguinity and all. It was this terrible intrusion that shook up the lovely girls’ lives. Now instead of returning home to their lovely little place they returned to a fat old drunk cajoling them and telling them they were worthless. On a chilly December night the drunk got into an argument with Lilly. It was over something trivial, but being the nature of drunkards he overreacted and began to choke her. Marie tried to pull him off of her little sister. Marie kept screaming “You’re going to kill her. Stop! Please, stop!” But he wouldn’t stop. So Marie calmly pulled the silk strap off her purse and came up behind the old man. She pulled the silk cord tight around his neck and began to strangle him. Eventually his grip released poor Lilly as his face turned blue. Lilly crashed to the ground panting and crying while the fat old man was tossed lifeless next to her. Marie had finished the job so to speak. Beautiful Marie stood their frozen. The same Marie who had become a vegan because she couldn’t stand to see little animals killed for her nourishment. The same gentle Marie who read books to children at her bookstore. Marie had just become a murderer, or better yet, a murderess. And it was a parricide to boot. The strange thing was that as Lilly finally stopped crying she noticed something in her big sister’s expression. Marie was happy; she was even holding back a smile. And then, apparently for no reason at the two girls burst into laughter. It was a beautiful boisterous laugh that at once filled the entire room. The two girls then poured each other a glass of wine as they mulled over what would be their next move. Eventually Marie calmly called the police who after listening to the details of her tragic story released her and assigned a detective to investigate further. A month later the two girls were completely acquitted of the parricide. And decided to leave town for a little bit in order to catch up on some of the calmness of nature.