which (softly) tears me
to tatters: nothing is
left of me, each time
I see her...
― Catullus

Cindy
I lived a previous life obsessed with Marilyn and entangled with Cindy. Seems I'm fated to be torn between two beautiful women.
Marilyn in my past was a silver screen goddess I longed to stare at, but Cindy was the Siren who made me lose my reason.
Yes Marilyn was attractive, but Cindy was an elemental force like gravity―there was no resisting and I could see why Odysseus' only solution to the matter was to be lashed to the mast of his ship until he could no longer hear the Siren's call.
I was spending Sunday alone trying to recuperate from my visit with Marilyn and to process what Cindy told me about our past relationship.
It seemed significant that in both lifetimes I went to Cambridge and was always haunted in dreams by recurring images.
I wondered how closely my past life paralleled my present.
I always said I didn't want to know details of my previous existence but now was curious to know how much the past affected my present.
There was one person I knew could find out and that was Nat Cohen, antiquarian and history buff. He could get to the bottom of things especially with his academic connections.
I dialled his cell.
"Hey Prof!" his happy voice sang on the other end. "I was wondering how you were getting along."
"I'm good, Nat, but need you to do a bit of research for me. I want you to dig up as much info as you can on a U of T graduate named James Wesley who won a scholarship to Cambridge in the 1930's. Are you up to a bit of detective work?"
"Sure, I'll help. You know how I love a mystery."
"Oh, by the way, please keep this on the down low―just between you and me."
"No prob, Prof. I'll get right on it and get back to you when I've found something."
I hated being secretive but at this stage I didn't want others of my team knowing I was searching out a previous life.
As it was, I didn't know how I'd react when I learned details of my previous history. If it was helpful I'd share it with everyone but if it were troubling, I'd prefer to keep the matter to myself.
Just as I was about to go out for a walk to clear my head, my cell rang―It was Cindy.
"Hey, Prof, just wanted to tell you we got an invite to hear Marilyn sing at the Palais Royale next week. Her Thirties Swing Band is playing a gig and she thought we might enjoy a night out. I tentatively agreed. Hope that's all right with you?"
"Sure, Cyn―sounds like fun. I was curious as to what Mar sounded like."
"Well, hold on your hat when we get there―this girl has an act that will blow you away. I just hope she doesn't tempt you again."
I reassured her I was immune to Mar's charms, but part of me wasn't so certain. If a hero like Odysseus fell prey to a Siren, how could I resist hearing Marilyn sing?
The thought troubled me.
I wondered would it be a consummation devoutly to be wished, or the beginning of a fresh conflagration?
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