jueves, 8 de septiembre de 2011

CHAPTER 1: The beginning of the end.


This is a night that I will recall 4 ever. U r very pretty (as ever, as 10 yrs ago) Big kiss. Take care Polish.





Buenos Aires, Argentina. 2010. 


The message shone in the cell phone screen. The smell of the train passing by covered her completely. Burnt stone mixed with oxide and ground. The same train that would take her to few steps from his house. The same train that would take her to ten years, in the past. She trembled for a moment and crossed the railways pushing the cell phone, with that sweet message of a confusing present, into the bottom of the pocket of her jacket.
She still smells the perfume that he left her in the body from the night before. She had decided not to wash away that perfume of present-past that satisfied her.
She had been her English Teacher a decade before. When both were immortal, when they let themselves make mistakes on purpose adducing they were too young, too inexperienced, lack of having lived enough to understand how things should be done, for being immortal.

Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1998. 


She was 26, he was 33. She had been engaged for six long and oppressive years. He was free. She was lively, passionate, funny, ironic, smiling, sarcastic, homesick…, loner…, sad…, alone. Not him.
They met, and the world stopped. It was October 1998. Saturday 24th. 2 pm.
She felt in her body that something was about to happen to her, something deep, something that would change her fate forever, something that would take her smile back, something. The same happened to him.
The elevator arrived and a short and bald man let a chubby lady get off, she was wearing a tight summer dress; behind them, he appeared. He was a doctor. You are really tall!” she exclaimed, the teacher, he blushed. The neighbors’ smiled maliciously. He pushed her gently onto the elevator. They went up seven floors avoiding glances and chatting about the sunny day and the high temperature of the day.
Once in the living room, she explained the English classes methodology and asked him why he had decided to start the language course and from where he had taken the deep green of his eyes… she suddenly thought… if he had taken it from the greenish sea of a postcard. He answered, offered her a fresh drink, lit a cigarette, asked her if the smoke bothered her, if she wanted him to open the balcony windows towards the street, towards the sky, towards a future together from that right moment.
She answered, laughed, seduced, made jokes. He turned the light on, offered her a fourth, fifth cup of coffee, a third coke…
Suddenly he asked:
Would you like something to eat?
No thanks, but… what’s the time?
It’s twenty past ten pm!
Can’t believe how the time flew away!
Yeah, I’m sorry for having kept you this far;
No! I’m sorry for not having left in a proper time!
But, I AM very sorry! Your boyfriend must be waiting for you…
Don’t worry, he always arrives after me…
Well, good to know that. I mean that this won’t be a problem for you.
Not at all. Don’t worry.
So… I will wait for you next Tuesday at 7 pm for the first class.
Sure! Wait for me the whole life that I’ll always come.

She drove home with a big smile. He smiled, too.

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