One Out of Two Read Online Free
Author: Daniel Sada
to fill orders as promised, they sewed till midnight almost every day. Hence, the stress previously mentioned.
Hence, also, the success—they worked for cheap—that allowed them to forget for long stretches their lack of acquiescence to love: men and their kisses, the sexual divide, those ecstatic shapes of bodies intertwined: over there, in the impossible beyond: tenderness was there, in the heavens.
That’s why this was so disruptive. The wedding. The separation. The attempt to find out if somehow: the gnosis of a miracle: a suitor might unexpectedly appear. But only one would go, because both, they couldn’t, no way. They discussed it extensively, the pros and the cons …
And they finally decide who would go to Nadadores with the flip of a coin. Heads or tails? Constitución won, and poor Gloria: she was left in a terrible predicament! She’d have to work double. One could even say, she’d have to work fast—chuck the usual perfectionism—if she was going to keep up with the orders. For her to fully embrace her defeat would require a change in criteria. To cleanse herself of envy so as to condescend, pretend to be someone who cared, though to tell the truth, deep down she bitterly wished that the other had been the one who’d lost, even if she was her equal. They still looked alike, but Gloria wanted to deny it when tails turned up and her ire rose.
“I hope you find someone good: a real man; but don’t get your hopes up too high.”
Wary dismay, and ultimately: razor-sharp envy; the loser issued her warning in tremulous tones and under the guise of great sincerity as she sewed without looking at her dear sister’s girlish delight, the perspicacious or deeply wise winner knowing how imprudent it would be to say anything that might provoke a silly spat, that it was advisable, for now, to accept the advice, pretending to repress her sense of triumph.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t get my hopes up too high.”
The talkative one, however, was a hypocrite, for she rose at dawn, in the dark and stealthily, not making any noise that would rouse she who remained unconscious. Complicated maneuvers to dress: then running euphorically the four blocks to the shop, after leaving on the bed a short note that read: “I’ll be at the shop. I’m going to make a dress out of our finest fabric, because I’m thrilled to be going to Nadadores. This is, after all, my big chance.” These lines, when read by the other, made her think that a fundamental attitudinal change had been wrought. What the devil had Constitución dreamed?
Erroneous notions. Getting all in a tizzy over a make-believe affection.
Now the gloating had come out in the open and was on the verge of flooding the scene or creating total disarray, as if the winning twin wished to provoke, or so the defeated sister saw it, heavy-duty envy or cold indifference or—why else? And that cursed coin toss now loomed large and powerful enough to destroy her twin. Imminent danger of … Gloria thought to herself: “I don’t like the look of things … I’m going to the shop. I’m going to set that girl straight.”
And off she went without even a bite of breakfast. Also running … There Constitución was, nose to grindstone, sewing her dress, her attention so rapt that she failed to notice the other’s noisy arrival, until that one said:
“I can’t envy you because what is yours is mine and vice versa. Isn’t that what we agreed years ago? What? Aren’t we exactly alike? I don’t understand why you came here so early, almost almost sneaking out. I didn’t care for your note. What’s wrong with you? Who do you think you are? What’s gotten into you?”
To which the other replied, “You’re right, I shouldn’t get my hopes up too high.”
“Don’t play that part with me. You’re all in a tizzy over something you have no idea about, and I don’t want you coming back sad if you don’t get what you want.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t
Hence, also, the success—they worked for cheap—that allowed them to forget for long stretches their lack of acquiescence to love: men and their kisses, the sexual divide, those ecstatic shapes of bodies intertwined: over there, in the impossible beyond: tenderness was there, in the heavens.
That’s why this was so disruptive. The wedding. The separation. The attempt to find out if somehow: the gnosis of a miracle: a suitor might unexpectedly appear. But only one would go, because both, they couldn’t, no way. They discussed it extensively, the pros and the cons …
And they finally decide who would go to Nadadores with the flip of a coin. Heads or tails? Constitución won, and poor Gloria: she was left in a terrible predicament! She’d have to work double. One could even say, she’d have to work fast—chuck the usual perfectionism—if she was going to keep up with the orders. For her to fully embrace her defeat would require a change in criteria. To cleanse herself of envy so as to condescend, pretend to be someone who cared, though to tell the truth, deep down she bitterly wished that the other had been the one who’d lost, even if she was her equal. They still looked alike, but Gloria wanted to deny it when tails turned up and her ire rose.
“I hope you find someone good: a real man; but don’t get your hopes up too high.”
Wary dismay, and ultimately: razor-sharp envy; the loser issued her warning in tremulous tones and under the guise of great sincerity as she sewed without looking at her dear sister’s girlish delight, the perspicacious or deeply wise winner knowing how imprudent it would be to say anything that might provoke a silly spat, that it was advisable, for now, to accept the advice, pretending to repress her sense of triumph.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t get my hopes up too high.”
The talkative one, however, was a hypocrite, for she rose at dawn, in the dark and stealthily, not making any noise that would rouse she who remained unconscious. Complicated maneuvers to dress: then running euphorically the four blocks to the shop, after leaving on the bed a short note that read: “I’ll be at the shop. I’m going to make a dress out of our finest fabric, because I’m thrilled to be going to Nadadores. This is, after all, my big chance.” These lines, when read by the other, made her think that a fundamental attitudinal change had been wrought. What the devil had Constitución dreamed?
Erroneous notions. Getting all in a tizzy over a make-believe affection.
Now the gloating had come out in the open and was on the verge of flooding the scene or creating total disarray, as if the winning twin wished to provoke, or so the defeated sister saw it, heavy-duty envy or cold indifference or—why else? And that cursed coin toss now loomed large and powerful enough to destroy her twin. Imminent danger of … Gloria thought to herself: “I don’t like the look of things … I’m going to the shop. I’m going to set that girl straight.”
And off she went without even a bite of breakfast. Also running … There Constitución was, nose to grindstone, sewing her dress, her attention so rapt that she failed to notice the other’s noisy arrival, until that one said:
“I can’t envy you because what is yours is mine and vice versa. Isn’t that what we agreed years ago? What? Aren’t we exactly alike? I don’t understand why you came here so early, almost almost sneaking out. I didn’t care for your note. What’s wrong with you? Who do you think you are? What’s gotten into you?”
To which the other replied, “You’re right, I shouldn’t get my hopes up too high.”
“Don’t play that part with me. You’re all in a tizzy over something you have no idea about, and I don’t want you coming back sad if you don’t get what you want.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t
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