Metaphorical Cities

K. David

When Solomon Thinter began his tale of the city of Hundielsoc he asked the king permission to be seated on a small wooden bench with a simple velvet cushion just to the left of the kings lofty throne. The king admonished him for his candor [he was in the presence of several dignitaries who were still standing] but gestured begrudgingly toward the lonely pew. Solomon slid slowly into the depths of the seat, slowly transferring the weight from his legs and settling in until he felt the slatted wooden back support through his white ruffled shirt.

He closed his eyes for a moment and wiped the tears welling in his eyes as he began to describe the island city of Hundielsoc. It was as though the impressions of the city he described were through the eyes of its inhabitants; it had been as if he had never seen the city alone.

When describing the main plaza with its limestone surface and long line of marble bollards at the edge of the crossing thoroughfares, he described in equal detail the dark almond-shaped eyes of the woman he spoke with there; he described both the church adjacent to the plaza and the face of the woman as ornate and beautiful. He personified the church, with the broad hips of its symmetrical bell towers and the curvaceous arches of its entranceway, just as he described the architectonics of the woman's lips and the cantilever of her nose.

He described the tumultuous noise of the fountain in the center of the plaza as a "torrid affair", and went on to recount the three weeks he spent in a nearby hillside town with a woman whose name he never knew, but whom he later found out was married to a local dignitary. He said that he had fallen in love with the fountain the very first time he had seen it, but that with each passing day the shadows grew longer and the stones cooler to the touch, until he no longer wandered close enough to saunter through the wet mist which floated down around its base.

Some streets were lined with trees, and others were tight and narrow and seemed never to escape the smell and pallid hues of dusk; Solomon Thinter described how, late at night, he would wander these streets with one of his lovers and take comfort in their embrace as he held his companion close. The warmth and play of candle light would reflect off the stone canyons and he would watch the half-closed eyes of curtained windows for the dancing silhouettes of their inhabitants.

When the king interrupted him to ask about the food, Solomon's eyes turned up toward the ceiling and he smiled sheepishly and mentioned the name of a woman he had known there as he described the smell of curry and the sound of children playing. He said that she liked to cook poultry with fresh garden vegetables, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils remembering the pungent smell of the stem of a freshly picked tomato. He described the chopping and the mincing and the names of all the local spices, and it reminded him of how her hair smelled as he leaned over her to get a better view of her hands as they guided a sharp blade through the soft skins of that days harvest.

The best views of the city, as Solomon recalled, were from the top of Mount Ghetilo, at the south end of the city, just over the river; but as he continued, the king knew the best views were through the eyes of Solomon's companions. Solomon recounted the steep climb of the rocky slopes as the foot path wandered up from the bank of the river. He told the king of a woman he had known who had shown him the way up the mountain, and who had bathed, in the warmth of the sun, with him at its summit. He recalled the juxtaposition of her smooth thighs set against the craggy geometry of the nearby rocks, in turn set against the smooth lush curves of the distant hilly landscape.

From this height Solomon could have seen, but not foreseen the outcome of, the three rivers and one old and eroded mountain range which he would traverse when he left the city for one month to visit with the king's cousin. When he had returned to the city, to its streets and its plazas, it felt completely vacuous without the company of one of his usual companions. He left the city and returned to the king's court that same day, vowing never to return.