Interactive Fiction

After reading the conclusion to Who Is She? click here or on the poll at the bottom of the story to vote on what you think she’ll do next …

Time: April 30th, 4:06 AM

Place: The Bedroom, Jericho, Long Island

On the morning of April 30th, the day she was to meet Jonathan Marston, she awoke startled. She was sweaty and frightened. Her dream disturbed her. She remembered it in detail — colors, words spoken, temperature and time. She sat upright in bed trembling and remembering.

To read Who Is She? Part One, click here
To read Who Is She? Part Two, click here
To read Who Is She? Part Three, click here

In this dream, she was floating above two men. Her wings were full-feathered but light when flying. Below her were two figures that looked like Jonathan and Bart — earthbound. She was young and lithe, observing two beautiful men who were tan and slender. She soared under a blue-warm sky and saw the men as if she were viewing a flipbook changing scenes: laughter, voices, tennis — score, "love/nothing." Flip, the men were skiing treacherous slopes together; flip, flip, playing ice hockey together; flip, squash, swimming, sailing and drinking; flip, wine glasses, champagne glasses and beer, clinking glasses louder and louder, click, click, as if in a crowded beer hall. The cacophony of the sound had a deafening echo. Suddenly she screamed as her wings folded in front of her and she could no longer fly. She could no longer open them. They were too heavy to carry. She was catapulted to earth. Grounded in darkness. The men had vanished. She was alone, protected only by the cushioning of her feathers. She grabbed the side of her mattress and bolted up half-awake. She had to separate from the dream. Her drowsy mind played early-morning memory tricks.

She saw herself as an actress on a stage playing a part. ACT I: Sex with Bart — Never gratifying. She had used it as a tool to secure a husband and to have children. ACT II: Sex for Pleasure — She disliked the act itself from the moment she had lost her virginity to Jonathan. ACT III: Self-stimulation — She loved her own desire and her own imagination. She found stimulating herself the most pleasurable. The rest was performance. EPILOGUE: She had to face the lack of sexual mutuality with Bart. It occurred to her that Bart was a part of this play, too. He, in truth, as actor-husband, was never aroused by his actress-librarian-wife. Bart possibly wanted what Jonathan had gotten, her very self, her. She had dismissed this circuitous route to Bart’s latent homosexuality as Psychology 101. But now she wondered if she was the way for Bart to enter Jonathan? After all, she was deflowered by her husband’s very best friend.

She loved reading Freud in her college psych course as much as she loved reading fiction. But she denied herself an analytic self in adulthood. In the book club, when she suggested Freud, they said he was outdated and anti-feminist. In the middle of this insightful night, Sigmund was a presence.

Her life became clear to her. Bart loved her as a friend and as the mother of their children, but never really as a woman. Face it. Bart was athletic, but never "a manly man." Maybe that’s why she didn’t expect his infidelity and was so shocked by the condom. Yes, sex was never a high priority for them — a vacation obligation, maybe, or an ode to the proof of fecundity.

Jonathan and Bart were inseparable in college. She remembered Bart telling her that he ran into Jonathan and they had a good chat. How was it that Jonathan didn’t remember Bart? Jonathan lied about the reunion. Certainly, they were in contact. What kind of contact? Did Jonathan tell Bart they were having dinner together? She told Bart she was meeting Lucille for a girl’s night out.

‘Let’s get on with it,’ she thought, as the sleep left her eyes. I think I get it. I can see …