But you didn’t fail, you didn’t come away injured. And I really believed: My test is going to be harder than those you have completed before. More difficult, more unpredictable. I was mistaken. Not about you, but mostly about myself.
When I read your night’s story in the morning after walking the dog, I suddenly lacked all energy, was unwilling to complete the day’s duties. But I was also at a loss because I no longer knew what to do or avoid if I were to follow you. I was always quick to agree to escapades in our shared sinful time. They cost me my wife. And now I only see the dog on weekends. But, and this is the worst thing: nothing has changed.
Don’t mind me when I tell you to not trust that feeling, which you believe to be the gateway back into wonderland. It is unsteady and easily frightened, a spoiled brat. If you follow it, it will lead you around by the nose, block your way in the decisive moment. And if you need it, it will abandon you.
I’m not worried about you. Your Curriculum Vitae that you fear so much has long been drafted and this constitutes a new entry.
So you will move to a different city. You will need a new apartment. If you want, I can help. A friend of mine is moving out. Freshly renovated, centrally located, spacious, sunny and it has a balcony. The walls are white. You will like it.
If you had really hoped to acquit yourself through these seven nights from all that is coming, from your own expectations of yourself, then let me tell you: you were wrong. The clock will not stop at SEVEN. “More later,” this excuse will continue to haunt you. The responsibility that you will bear will not make your free, least of all from your desire to return to the grass-green bygone days, which will get younger and younger the more you age.
Every time you look back at it, that late-summer day when we met for the first time will shine more brightly. To me it already seems like a distant time: How we sat there and ate. In the heat. Sweat on our foreheads, dripping down the backs of our knees. We cooled our throats with Burrata and Bresaola, Aperol Spritz and beer. But most of all, we talked. And you, with your open shirt and upturned collar, started talking about the stairs you are seeking. The stairs to the secret society for all those who still believe in secrets.
First I smiled, because it’s refreshing to feed off the high spirits of someone so naive. Especially with the heat making it difficult to form a coherent thought. I could have watched you forever, as you effortlessly plucked the words from the air and stacked them on your plate until the rim was no longer visible.
At the end, I promised on a whim to hold your stirrups and swing the whip for you. I would be able to fulfill your desire for secrets and an alternate world. But you would have to deliver something in return: Seven nights. Seven sins. Seven utopias. We pushed back our chairs and that sealed the deal. I paid the bill.
Then, we were strangers. Now we know each other no longer by name only. We have spelled each other out, uncovered a few secrets. What we admire in each other is not magic. Our gaze is more trained. You will no longer surprise me.
I’ll soon come and visit you in your new life. And for an evening, we can pretend to be dreaming again. Of one last summer. Freedom, no shackles, no worries.
But in truth, there is no way back for us to that late-summer day, even if the map is buried somewhere deep in your writing. Hopefully others will attempt the undertaking we have planned. It is definitely worth a try. This world could certainly use more of those who inhabit the clouds, more real dreamers.
The good thing is that now that you are on this side of the street, we will see more of each other. And we will empty a few more glasses—no doubt about that.
As wise men once liked to say:
Good night and good luck!
Your T
GLOSSARY
COPYRIGHT
This is a Genuine Rare Bird Book
Rare Bird Books
453 South Spring Street, Suite 302
Los Angeles, CA 90013
Copyright © 2019 by Simon Strauss
Translation copyright © 2019 by Eva & Lee Bacon
© Aufbau Verlag GmbH & Co. KG, Berlin 2017
(Published with Blumenbar; »Blumenbar« is a trademark of Aufbau Verlag GmbH & Co. KG)
FIRST NORTH AMERICAN TRADE PAPERBACK ORIGINAL EDITION
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever, including but not limited to print, audio, and electronic.
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Set in Minion
EPUB ISBN: 9781644281000
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Strauss, Simon, 1988-, author. | Bacon, Eva, translator. | Bacon, Lee, translator.
Title: Seven nights / Simon Strauss ; translated by Eva & Lee Bacon.
Description: First North American Trade Paperback Edition | A Genuine Rare Bird Book | New York, NY; Los Angeles, CA: Rare Bird Books, 2019.
Identifiers: ISBN 9781644280515
Subjects: LCSH Young men—Fiction. | Deadly sins—Fiction. | City and town life—Fiction. | Boredom—Fiction. | BISAC FICTION / Literary
Classification: LCC PT2721.T73715 S48 2019 |
DDC 833/.92—dc23