...a deathly serenade...

instead of her pursuing more work and more
success, she slowly began to see herself as her life
work: I can’t allow myself to become like my
mother, said Leila when we would meet in the
coffee shop, that had become a refuge. At the time
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
conversations with her were becoming one woman
shows that I was merely granted attendance to: I
remember one time her speaking for one hour
about her thoughts and her problems writing a
new poem, once she finished she just got up and
left at once, as if she had forgotten I was
supposedly throwing the ball back, lost in her own
thoughts she mumbled to herself and only
acknowledged my presence when I called out her
name, for her to just wave whilst continuing to
walk out of the coffee shop. It is senseless to want
to be close to such a person, an eagle. And it was a
few weeks later that I found out that she had gone
to the nunnery. I had visited Leila’s apartment and
the landlord told me that she had decided to leave.
She was actually a good tenant, a loopy bitch, but
though they all are, but she had such nice breasts,
said the upset landlord shaking his head. I asked
the landlord where she could have gone and he
told me that she, in a rush, mentioned something
about a nunnery. I instantly knew where she was,
and received the news from her a few days later
when she called. The decision to become a nun
was a shock, but she had decided this was her only
real hope. Madgelaine had told Leila that her
secular life would lead her to the grave, and she
listened, of course. I wanted to visit her, being that
she was still in the city, in Tyburn, but she said
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