NOT EVEN ONCE

NARRATION

When my grandmother was dying I showed her a photo of my ex boyfriend and lied I am getting married. When she saw a picture she proudly exclaimed: Damn girl, you are so lucky! In 2014 my grandmother has died, in 2015 my relationship was over. 

Life is slow on the peninsula. I live on the internet. Viber, WhatsApp and Skype are ringing on a regular basis. After finished studies of comparative literature, my best friend Lejla and I, settled in two different countries, maintaining our contact in hyperreality. Analysis of society is our main occupation. We follow changes of the Zeitgeist, vote for progress, and the years going by, following us.

Our society has a large expectations. When I entered twenties, my grandmother was concerned I am an old girl. In December I enter my thirties. Lejla had her thirtieth birthday few months earlier. 

Ironic, as always, we did not give up. According to our theories, the numbers are going one by one, and that’s the curse of every human life. Transience. For the memory of my grandmother, I had to provide you with some kind of statistic.

What’s with Nino? – I asked. He’s catching his thirty-third, married once, divorced once. Aida? Once married, child on the road, married few days ago, for the second time. Twice? Twice. Iris? She broke up with Igor, married last week, heading for Mexico. Do you write? Iris, Mexico, twice.

Summa summarum they were all there somewhere. So thirties, once or twice. Statistically speaking, we are beyond average. I wonder, if my grandmother was still alive what she would say for ”not even once”, in thirties.

© Tina Bikic