Cabaret Desire Page #2

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or break into rich people's houses.

She was an art thief.

She stole one-of-a-kind pieces

from deco jewelry

to paintings from the Renaissance and the Modernists.

And she especially loved incredibly old

first editions from her favorite authors.

There was nothing she couldn't find and acquire,

Her intelligence,

and her training in art history,

made her the best there ever was.

If she wanted something,

it was hers.

There was one thing that made her a legend.

She never spoke of it,

but it's said that Interpol nearly had her once,

but the detective handling the case fell in love

and they had an affair before she vanished.

There were always rumors about important men,

the Director of the Louvre,

a famous art restorer at the Prado,

private collectors.

Curiously enough,

they all ended with something incredibly valuable missing.

And more often than not,

it wasn't even reported to the police.

But of all her adventures,

there was one that she considered her masterpiece.

One story that she told with more vigor,

pride and excitement than all the others.

She called it her "best work".

And it was funny because

it was never clear just what she had stolen

or what made it so special.

All I really know about that particular,

and in her words "ambitious" caper is the mark:

Karl Razmann.

The famous novelist and playwright

who revolutionized the entire world

with his experimental works on sexuality, seduction

and equality of the sexes.

She had all of his work.

It comprised almost one-fourth of her extensive library.

She often spoke of him, in fact.

And always with the most sincere

and profound intellectual admiration.

I would listen intently

trying so hard not to ask questions.

But always asking too many

and causing her to snap out of it

and change the subject.

I was always suspicious

that it was more than just a simple robbery.

Especially after Razmann wrote a best-selling novel

whose protagonist mysteriously resembled my mother.

But neither the novel, nor my mother ever revealed exactly

what precious object she stole from him that day.

Of course,

in the end I figured it out.

After years of stalking around the house

looking for some hidden object

it finally came to me.

There wasn't any mysterious treasure hiding around the corner.

As it turned out, the thing she stole,

her greatest work

was me.

Hello! I'm so pleased to introduce you to Simone,

One of our most exciting poets.

Please sit down.

- Please. - Three?

I always thought that when I turned 30,

I'd be an adult,

living the life I'd always fantasized about.

The one that was created when we were little girls.

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