Lolita.

Lolita-1962-film-images-dad78042-656b-412e-9fc6-0977cb78572

She goes by the name of Dolores. Dolly. Lolly. Lollette. Lotte. Lo.

You may call her whatever you like, but Lolita suits her the best.

She walked and moved in her own particular way. Childlike and carefree. Her long dark blonde hair was either tied up in a messy bun or freely untied and uncombed. It had a distinct fragrance to it; like a fiery summer and salty beach. She carried a cherry lollipop in the pocket of her dress or baggy jeans everywhere she goes. Sometimes she wore Mary Jane shoes, but other times sneakers.

She acted like a little 12 year-old girl that she was. Naive, yet potentially sinful in the most innocently curious way–thanks to all those Hollywood movies that offered cheap love stories and affairs.

She used to get those stares from her neighbors and strangers; from old ladies who thought Lolita was an improper young girl, from horny teenage boys who looked at her grey eyes and red lips with full of lust, even from a 40-year-old European poet turned French literature lecturer named Humbert who lived in her apartment building.

Humbert kept a discreet affection over little girls like her.

He had a term for little sexual angels like Lolita; nymphets. He used to admire nymphetin general, but since he laid his eyes on Lolita a couple of years ago in the elevator, he convinced himself that he did not need anyone else to adore.

This was where a little romance began to lead Lolita astray. Not because of the lack of her self-recognition, but simply her lack of age and experience. In many years ahead, rest assured, she would be one hell of a resilient, smart, witty lady.

She was the kind of girl who learned from every misfortune, but of course, Lolita being Lolita, not a single damn given. ‘Things happen and life goes on’ was her ultimate motto.

It has been 13 years since the last time I saw Dolores and Humbert; they were sneaking out our apartment at 3 AM with a couple of dark colored luggage and took off with Humbert’s classic black Mustang.

I wonder if Humbert really loves her.

I wonder if Lolita ever gets her heart broken.

 

-K

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