How to explain the magnificence of a live woman body? Well, there is this short story, a fiction written by a Japanese writer whom I have forgotten the name. It is the story of an old man totally helpless, confined to a wheelchair. He is paralyzed from head to toes. He can’t talk and can’t move nor express himself in any way other than with the blinks of his eyes. The locked-in syndrome I think it is called. He has people taking care of him since he’s still alive and somewhat powerful enough to afford it.
But he can hear and he can see. And he can blink his eyes.
He got this Japanese nurse assigned to his case, a young nurse. To him, she is looking ok, a bit stupid like all of them. The old fart wasn’t thinking much about it until one morning, it was spring, she rolled him over to the window. Once there, he looked up, because that he could do with his eyes, and he caught a glimpse of the sun piercing through one of her nostrils.
Jesus Christ! I mean, that’s some sweet pink…
The old guy had forgotten about luck but he recognized it when he saw it. And that was something!
From then on, from the moment he woke up every morning, he tried, with his blinks, to somehow corral this nurse to roll him by the window. Once he got there, and if the sun was just right through the window, and if she was just over him talking nonsense, the sun would maybe shine through the skin of her nostril and he, from underneath, would see that shade of pink again.
Most days were defeats but that kept him alive because, no kidding, when luck would have it, there happened in his head something like a powerful stealth explosion! Yeah, a stealth explosion!
Only he knew of those invisible deflagrations, of course, but every single man and woman on this planet owe to know of it.
Some pinky stuff, ain’t it?
See, I understand this man.
Doesn’t anyone else know about the shades of pink in a woman? The ear lobe? The pussy? The darker pink of the vibrating skin of a female round eye?
Are we really better off than this old guy trying to get lucky? I don’t think so.
Are we just as desperate? I think so.
For all purposes, this nurse could go back home safely to her boyfriend explaining she’s taking care of an old fool. Not fear, no pain. So what’s the fuzz? In this case, as far as I’m concerned, this woman never had anything to worry about, had she?
Yes, indeed, when all is said and done, as far as this old man was concerned, blinking, what he felt was sex. Pure sex! The purest!
Sure, considering it all, at the end there is some kind of violence because the dumb nurse didn’t know and didn’t realize the sum of this man’s desires, he manipulated her. And even if he didn’t manipulate her per se, which is probably the case, anyway there is some violence, how harmless it may be, because she didn’t consent.
Yet, given the circumstances, shouldn’t the old guy go for it? And aren’t his desires legit? And shouldn’t a nurse, a woman, feel good and proud of his attention and desperate efforts?
Shouldn’t she, sometimes, demonstrate a bit of pity and show him a tit or a leg and, when in a good mood, even show him a bit of pussy or ass? For his blinking eyes only?
That sure would beat sunlight through the nostril of an idiotic nurse.
And wouldn’t that come close to what humanity has best to offer?
Abstract by Ellar Wise