Scattered Cues

The roommate left early the next morning: he was giving tennis lessons to elderly women at some pre-fascist recreation club in the Tiergarten. The girl came in the kitchen with her hair knotted & eyeliner caked in the corners of her eyes. She asked him if he wanted to get some coffee & they walked to a cafe down the street & she told him that his friend was a child who is trying to attain manhood by manipulating the women in his life, convincing himself that they dance to his cues & will always comfort his distress. She said that she was letting him do the same to her but that she was aware of it & could easily distance herself from the abuse & witness his delusional games with a detached fascination. She talked for another hour as he listened & right before she left to go to work, the wind blew off the squares of napkin paper she had torn & piled at the edge of the table.