MAN IN SUIT: the story
“I’m among a gang of five delinquent boys. They’re pushing me, shoving me this way and that; tearing at my garment - silky under the full moon light. The boys laugh echoes into my ears. One of them, short and strangely effeminate, mocks me with a toothless grimace. The forest of pines is ominous as the trees tune into my plight. All I can feel is the damp earth and the fallen cones under my bare, bleeding feet.
“A man in a suit suddenly appears out of the shadows. His grey suit is well pressed and he’s wearing a blood red tie – the same colour and texture as my dress – almost as if he picked up a torn piece from the ground and adorned himself with my scars. From where he came from, I do not know but when the boys see him, they instantly flee. I run toward him only to fall clumsily at his feet, in reverence. My dress is barely there and as the man in a suit lifts me up, my right nipple makes its first appearance.
“Without a word exchanged between us, I lay myself down on the scratchy surface. For a long time, he does not move, he just stands there looking down on me - with a look that I can only describe as ‘disgusted love’. He unzips the fly of his suit pants and lowers them to his ankles. He enters me and penetrates my very soul.
“An elegant tear runs smoothly down a deepened track on my face. “Nooooooooo,” I shout, through a muted voice box. I close my eyes - he seems to be getting close. When I try to stop him, he quickens his thrust to a dangerous pace. Like a deranged boxer, he punches into me with his throbbing manhood that erodes my insides like a thick tree stump. I open my mouth in agony. The veins on his face pop out, his pace decelerates – he has cum inside me.
“As he screams in ecstasy, his voice echoes for eternity through the forest. An owl calls back to him, as if to congratulate his arrival. He collapses on top of me, his full weight compressing me further into the moist, fertile earth. Satiated and exhausted, he rolls to my left and crushes a snail or three. Now free, I run through the tall trees.
“My footsteps on the rough terrain resonate like hard lead on wood. The kind of crashing sound that emits warning of worse to come. I breathe heavy, deep, painful breaths. The cool, fresh air of the forest pierces my lungs as my head spins kaleidoscopes of meaning in the vortex of my mind.
“I keep running and running and running, as fast as my bruised thighs can take me, only to bump into the delinquent boys, once again.”
The old woman speaks no more. There is silence in the room, save for the intricate dance between pen and page. She is blinded by a shot of light, as she opens her eyes to reality.
“Mh,” emits a voice she does not recognize at first. Sigmund Freud, young and completely enthralled, writes manically into his notebook: Man, she’ s a head case!
“So, you dream this every night?” asks he.
“Yes, every night for as long as I can remember,” she says. “My son told me you study these sort of things. What could it possibly mean?”
“It’s not so much what it means than what it symbolizes,” says Freud. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, from what I can gather and please don’t take this the wrong way, you have what I’ve termed Penis Envy.”
“Excuse me! Are you saying I secretly want to be a man?” says the old woman, instantly inflamed. “That’s simply outrageous, I see we’re wasting both our times, young man. I’m out of here!”
“That’s the human mind for you!” says Freud after she slams the door behind her. “Deny, deny, deny!” ■
MAN IN SUIT - the song
The Dung and Beetle Project is a creative collaboration between Writer, Lerato Mmutle aa Lerammoux and established Music Producer, Gabi Le Roux. Every short story has a song. The lyrics are informed by the narrative and the beat grooves to the tempo of the story. Written, composed and produced in South Africa. Lerato Mmutle is living in Europe.