C4 antho - Chamber Four

~82~ The Chamber Four Fiction Anthology
practical way, to be able to compete at the markets of business
and love. How I wish I were her.
Tanya and I spend lecture breaks together smoking
American cigarettes we buy for ten thousand apiece, for none
of us can afford the luxury of a whole pack. We share her cigarette
today because I am too broke for even one snout.
“Was I too loud this night?”
“Not louder than usual.”
Tanya informs me abundantly, as she always will, of
Alyosha’s codpiece contents. Alyosha is her latest infatuation
we had the boon of perceiving. The last inhalation of Pall
Mall is hers. In a bluish, bridal veil of smoke, she confides
me the latest Secret of Secrets.
“This night Alyosha said he wants a baby by me.”
In Donetsk, as everybody knows, children are rather
aborted than born.
“Lucky you,” I say. “No one has ever wanted children by
me. But you can give it a try.”
“God forbid,” Tanya says. “I’m waiting for the reply from
the Kiev Travel Star. I wish they would take me!”
The bell to the next lecture rings and we go to listen to
the Truth of the Truths of Theoretical Phonetics of the English
Language delivered by Lubov Gavrilovna, a fierce spinster.
Tanya is sitting next to me, looking directly into Lubov
Gavrilovna’s mouth and zealously copying transcription
signs from the blackboard, begging her goddess to forgive
her premature thoughts of progeny: “/θ/ as in ‘thick’: voiceless,
dental, fricative. /ð/ as in ‘then’: voiced, dental, fricative.
/æ/ as in ‘bag’: front, open, short.”
The blue book under my desk is revealing different
truths to me. I am copying them, pretending to be in a theoretically-phonetic
trance.