"YES", she said looking away from her palm where she had just emptied two cigarettes.
"But that's a different kind of love, the love that hardly anybody knows or understands". After warming and mixing hashish with tobacco, she took a deep sigh and continued, "It's been two years, we have been in love"'
"what does he do", I asked curiously.
'He's a drug dealer who supplies me hashish with hundreds of other addicts in the city", she said exhaling smoke from her nostrils.
"And what type of love is that nobody understands"?
"It's been two years and we haven't shared a bed, even for once. Every time he's here, we sit in front of each other, I prepare the cigarettes and we smoke, he prepares the cigarettes and we smoke, looking into eyes of each other, not even saying a single word, but listening to each other's silence. Once hashish overcomes our feelings, I lie down on this couch and he, there on that bed. Yet, we prevail aach other's mind for hours, lying numb".
"How do you know he loves you"?
"He proposed me once and I said NO, yet he comes here every week to perform the ritual of silence, to share the smoke, to talk in silence, to feel the inner voice".
"What! why did you say NO"?
"Because I know what people do after finding love, because I want him caged for the rest of his life. The day we'll merry I'll start losing him. We'd share the bed and all the desire we have for each other will vanish in next few days or weeks. It will last a year or so, if I'm lucky but it will end gradually and surely. Sex is the most fragile thing that can hold two persons close, but the desire to have sex keeps people close for centuries".
"Isn't it a mean thing to do with a person wo loves you? You're least concerned about him. What if he can't handle this all and moves on someday"?
Lighting the seventh cigarette she said, "Whoever enters this room is gone the next morning. At least he hasn't, for so long. And there's nothing mean for me, after all, I'm a prostitute".
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