Company / A Woman in Space (excerpt)

/, Literature, Blesok no. 122/Company / A Woman in Space (excerpt)

Company / A Woman in Space (excerpt)

Company 1
Company 2
Company 3

A WOMAN IN WORKSPACE You must breathe between the tasks, all those lists are going to eventually nail you to the office floor, blue linoleum flooring from the eighties, like the one you had at elementary school, in the gym, I remember how much I liked to high jump, breaking a new record every week. At least this office has outside windows, the air comes out of the AC but the light is natural. A woman in workspace who since winter began can’t get up in the mornings, not because of the cold, it’s no excuse, and not because anything like it or anything similar, you know very well it’s because of the absence. How do they find time for love in this mess, the morning traffic jams in the oncoming lane make you have vertigo.

A WOMAN IN WORKSPACE. Do you bleed? I think you’re bleeding and that it’s out of your ordinary dates. Everything always comes on time with you, even though with the years things turn stickier, filled with more life, you don’t excrete it out of your womb, for a while now it’s been coming out of your irises, and every time you look at something it drips off you, you’re shedding salty tears of blood in front of the double screens of the work station. A woman in workspace do you remember how once, not so long ago, you liked meetings and long processes, and to see how they are validated, the things, and your projects, become alive

A WOMAN IN WORKSPACE I tried to take the woman out of the workspace and talk to her when I am in a space that isn’t work.

I couldn’t.

Company 2

Around midnight my head hit the pillow and I remembered the fish. I couldn’t remember whether I fed it or not. I got out of bed and took it out of the aquarium. I immediately put it inside a deep plastic box. I went to wash the aquarium, which was very dirty. The fish might have been sick. When I washed the aquarium the bowl slipped through my fingers and broke inside the sink. I left it like that in the sink. I added some food to the plastic box, the fish’s new abode, and it swam. It seemed content, that was always the kind of impression it made. I manage it like I manage all other things. I made a habit to feed it Mondays and Thursdays. The problem is, sometimes it gets difficult to remember when is Monday and when is Thursday. When is the time of the fish. I always confuse dates and schedules. Like with my period. It has always been very regular and I knew how to identify it when it came. Atomic nervous breakdowns, no pain. At some point I downloaded some sort of an application which tells me when it’s due. I write in it what kind of symptoms appear before, during, and after my period. And when I have sex, if I had it, and with whom. The company gave me my cellphone. It also covers my monthly phone bills. Sometimes they switch my phone for me. Not only me, for everyone. The reason is almost always an upgrade. Some other times, when the phone is stolen or broken, they also agree to get another. With some employer’s participation, of course, which is deducted from my wage. A lot of numbers were lost or deleted because of the upgradings. Or the opposite, were doubled or tripled. Mostly I don’t notice it in real time. The main problem remains the dates. The period application synchronizes the last update but sometimes it’s not close enough. In these cases I lose track of it completely.

AuthorTehila HAKIMI
Translated byTea Duza
Translated byMaayan Eitan
2018-11-30T13:15:00+00:00 November 29th, 2018|Categories: Prose, Literature, Blesok no. 122|Comments Off on Company / A Woman in Space (excerpt)