Love Virtually by Daniel Glattauer Page A

be naive to say “Forget Marlene!” But you’ve got to, once and for all. I’ve got a suggestion to make. Instead of thinking about Marlene, why don’t you make a conscious effort to think about me instead? Imagine you’re doing everything with me that you’d like to do with Marlene. (My furniture’s beginning to stare at me again.) I mean, just for the transition phase, until we’ve found you someone else. What kind of a woman would you like? How would you like her to look? Go on, tell me! Maybe I’ve got someone in mind.
    Seriously now, a woman who says, “If it helps to write to her, then write to her,” is a million miles away from what I understand by being in love. Marlene doesn’t love Leo. Leo doesn’t love Marlene. The passion of these two non-lovers is forged from the other’s craving for love. I can’t put it better than that. I have to work now.
    Till soon,
    Emmi, your “virtual alternative”
    Four hours later
    Re: Marlene
    Dear Emmi,
    Greetings from your other world. I enjoy your emails, and I’m really grateful for them. Please tell your various pieces of furniture that I admire their attitude and respect their team spirit. I’m not going to intrude on the Rothner household; I’ll restrict my dealings with Emmi to the screen. My particular compliments to the wine cabinet. Maybe one day the three of us can have another midnight rendezvous. (I promise not to drink so much beforehand.)
    I’m extremely tickled that you’re thinking about pairing me off. What sort of women do I like? Women who look the way you write, Emmi. And I wouldn’t mind getting a crack at being their real world, not just their other world. In short, women who aren’t already “happily married,” holed up in a family fortress and under surveillance by their furniture. Until one of those crosses my path, I’ll gladly take you up on your offer and think about you before I think of Marlene. It won’t always work, but if you keep on spoiling me with emails I’ll inch ever closer to my goal.
    I hope you have a nice evening. I’m meeting up with my sister Adrienne tonight. She’ll be pleased that I’ve managed to break up with Marlene again. And she’ll be delighted that I’m still in touch with you. All she knows is the odd excerpt from your emails and what I’ve told her about you—and she’s seen the three Emmi candidates. She likes you, irrespective of which one is you. She’s agreed with her brother on this.
    The next day
    Subject: Mia!
    Hi Leo, it came to me in the night. Of course, Mia! It’s Mia! Leo and Mia—it already sounds wonderful! Listen up, Leo, Mia’s thirty-four and gorgeous. She’s a gym teacher with long legs and a lovely figure, not an ounce of fat on her, dark complexion, black hair. There’s only one drawback: she’s vegetarian, but all you have to do is tell her it’s tofu and she’ll eat meat too. She’s extremely well read, highly intelligent, enterprising, cheerful, always in a good mood. In other words, she’s a dream woman. And . . . she’s single!
    Shall I introduce you?
    An hour and a half later
    Re: Mia!
    Emmi, Emmi, Emmi! I know all about those long-legged Mias. My little sister introduces me to one of them practically every week. I’ve seen those designer clothes catalogues full of 0.0 percent fat models à la Mia, each one more beautiful and long-legged than the next. And they’re all single. And do you know why, dear Emmi? Because that’s how they like it! And that’s how they want it to stay for a while longer.
    I don’t want to dampen your enthusiasm, my dear other-world Emmi, but I’m not in the mood for meeting a dream Mia at the moment. I’m very happy with my life as it is. Thank you for your efforts nonetheless!
    My sister sends her greetings, by the way. She says I shouldn’t