Cleopatra and Frankenstein

by Coco Mellors

She was already inside the elevator when he entered.

love this for an opening line

“No, it’s just, that title is—never mind. I keep meaning to read more,” he conceded. Cleo shrugged. “Just buy a book and read it.” “Right. I hadn’t thought of that.”

She worried that she was one of those artists who care more about being an artist than they do about making art.

Since they had not thought to invite a witness, Frank ran back outside and asked the hot dog vendor to join them. He surprised them both by quietly weeping through the entire ceremony, which lasted less than five minutes.

“When was the last time you were with a straight man, I’m talking any straight man, and he said something more interesting than what you were already thinking?”

If you want to make good art, don’t go into advertising. And if you want to make good advertising, don’t stay in America.

“This song is cool!” the boy said. “I’m married!” Cleo said. “I don’t hear you!” he said. “Married to a man!” she said. “Twice your age!” But the boy just laughed and pointed to his ears.

“Do you remember when we were coming back from France, there was that couple in front of us at the airport?” Frank opened one eye and peered at her. “From our honeymoon? Did we know them?” “No. They were just this regular couple with two little kids, a baby and a toddler. They were going through security, trying to dismantle the pram and get their shoes off and remove the computer, all that shit, you know, and the baby was crying and the little girl was having a temper tantrum, screaming to be picked up.” Frank shook his head. “I don’t remember that.” “Well, in the middle of all that chaos, the wife looked at the husband, they caught each other’s eyes over the heads of the bawling kids, and they started laughing.” “Why?” asked Frank. “Because it was such a nightmare, you know? They had to laugh.” Cleo thought about this for a moment. “Actually, that’s the point. They didn’t have to. My parents would have been screaming at each other.” “My dad wouldn’t have been there to be screamed at.” Cleo nodded. “Exactly,” she said. “But these two, they were in it together. They were laughing.”

“As long as there’s chicken parmigiana in the freezer,” a lady says into her phone as she walks past me, “everything will be okay.”

A young couple was running with loose-limbed abandon across the large flat stones and laughing loudly, shouting to each other for no reason, it seemed, than the joy of being youthful and beautiful somewhere ancient and beautiful. They’re not much younger than Cleo, Frank thought. They’re so much younger than me, Cleo thought.