“Godwoman”

Golden hour, god hour.

Godwoman

Godwoman smiles like Jack Nicholson on her plump face. She wears regular boy clothes. In shades of green. Her long hair sits incongruous with her khakis. She drips gold from her upper body. Rings on every finger. A fat gold chain on her neck. Gold earrings. Bangles and watch. Godwoman is rich. Can I run away with just one thing? It will pay for the flight fare to my boy. My boy lives in the hills you see. He can only rarely descend. My friend Betty believes in this Godwoman. Her soul has been saved. She has given her the Lord. She floats in that benediction. Betty has lost weight. She eats every alternate day. She sleeps more. Work is scanty. So is love. Betty doesn’t pick Chuck’s call no more. He irritates her. Betty came to Godwoman because she couldn’t bear his cheating. Godwoman tells her she can see Chuck coming back to her soon. The mercury in retrograde isn’t a good time for them. Godwoman asks Betty to be patient. To keep the Lord close. Her lips reach her ears again. God loves those who love themselves. Does she not have teeth? Am I the only one here to think it means something else? But then my mind is not in the right place I know. It spins fast and makes me dizzy. My boy speaks so fondly of his ailing wife it leaves me cold. I look up the internet for medicine and remedies. He nods okay more frequently than he used to. My boy prefers audio to video calls these days. The earth spins. Fish float to the Kochi beach in silver droves. I look at the men jumping happy at this sudden bounty. There are more fish than water in that wave and I rejoice in the spectacle. If I sell fish, will I have enough to fly out of here? My boy has a wife. He can’t make it here. Godwoman looks at me and says this is the first time I have loved someone. I don’t know about that. My God asks me to love everyone. It is difficult. It is difficult to love his wife. But I try. What if he loves her more than me and leaves the new for the old? Old feels comfortable. Just like my ratty clothes do. This one is almost see-through. Father disapproves. My boy says you wear what you want to. He doesn’t care about stale breath or lumpy hair. I am lost and I smile. Godwoman looks at me with glinting eyes. Does Betty not interest her anymore? She tells Betty I am drugged in complicated love. That us girls will pull each other up and build our own kingdom. I don’t want no kingdom. Godwoman slithers her jeweled fingers on my arm. She smells of incense, woodfire and damnation.

Superpresent, Summer 2025 (June), Discomfort Issue

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