A Christmas story

Those middle-aged men, skin head and face, rounded expression and especially very small fingers and hands, had threatened me since i was a little boy.

I took the job knowing it was the only exit from my wrecked life. I should write about small things, the fee was not so bad and i could work in or out office. There was just a little detail: my boss was one of those small-fingers-men. No chance, we did not get on each other since the very first time we met.

Christmas was coming and then he shot me: I need a Christmas story, till tomorrow evening, you know…

Swimming into a sea of desperation, i sat on my desk. The office was full of different noises coming from all around. I was perplexed. Time went by and i had not written a single word. I decided to work at home. I went there and prepared everything carefully. My notebook, a jar with orange juice, a little Santa that i had kept since was a kid and my cigarettes. All the stuff was ready over the full-function table that was close to the window. Everything was in the right place. The street was in silence. So was my brain. The only eco passing through my mind were his last words: till tomorrow evening… No idea about Christmas. Time went on running and i kept focused on the white virtual page. I knew time was leaving me alone when i saw the street covered by darkness. In spite of the knowledge about my bad situation, i turned in and fell asleep.

Next morning when the alarm clock woke me up, i had wanted to throw it through the window, but i didn’t. Instead of it i prepared the jar of juice, and litting a cigarette i sat down to work again. My mind went on without any idea. A few hours later i had to finish my work, however i couldn’t begin it.

The atmosphere inside home wasn’t helping me. It would be better to go out and see what’s up in the street. I needed a rest and fresh air. I was at the door when I realized it was locked. I had no idea where I had left the fucking keys. I checked every common place where I used to leave them. No matter at all. They had vanished. I should go out immediately, the symptoms of my old phobia were reappearing: my hands began to be wet and my left cheek was pounding wildly. All of a sudden, with no sign of hesitation, i opened the window and run down through the fire escape after having taking a few things which i kept into a backpack: notebook, cigarettes and wallet.

A couple of children were playing in the street. When they saw me, going off the outside walls slinging the bag over my shoulders, they didn’t have any doubt about who i really was. So, when i arrived to the street, they began to shout in a very loud voice: boys, come in, Santa is here. He is bringing us our presents. Let’s come to see him! A few minutes later many children were around me, looking at my face with bright eyes. I would have like to explain them they were wrong, that they had too much expectations, that i was a fucking loser…

I tried to explain them that. But it wasn’t an easy work. I remembered my weak voice saying: listen to me, please…I don’t have any presents for you…, it made me sick… I could feel the great disappointment in their heart. So i said i don’t have any presents but i can give you something different, just, listen to me…

Suddenly they sat on the sidewalk, making a deep silence. I found myself making up my first story about Christmas. I never sent it to my boss. I just phoned him, wished him Merry Christmas and bought a ticket to the beach.

That story was sometyhing similar than the following: Once upon a time, there was a little child who lived in a very far land. His name was Tilly. Christmas was coming and he wanted to send a letter to Santa Claus, to ask for the huge red truck he had seen on the paper. So, one morning he got up very early, left home and went to the Post office. He had to walk during two days to find it. He sent his letter and came back home walking again. When he arrived he was exhausted. He had to walk for a very long time. He realized he was living in a very far land. How could Santa do to find me? He will never know where I live, he worried.

Christmas’ night Tilly felt anxious. He kept watching the door and the window out. Nobody came in. In spite of his efforts to keep awake he fell asleep. Next morning when he woke up the sun was shining. He could see a bright blue sky through the glasses. Inside the house, nothing had changed. Not even a single trace of something different. He couldn’t come, sure, he thought. He had to go to a lot of different places…and my home is so small and far…he complained. Then a strange noise coming from the backyard began to filter inside the house. In spite of the fact he felt anguish he decided to go out and see what was happening.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A beautiful white horse was there. This is the most beautiful surprise that I could ever expect! Now I can go where I want to. Never ever will I have to walk again and my house will be closer of the world than before.

After that he rode the horse through the wind melting him with the skyline..

A song

i met you once

i met you twice

i couldn’t understand

i didn’t realize

the look of your eyes

the trace of your fingers on my jaw

the way of your smile...

i lost the chance

i didn’t miss the train

and you stayed on the railway...

A perfect luggage

She opened the closet and took the white shirts that were inside it. She put them carefully over the bed. She took one, she buttoned it and put it into the luggage. She did the same with all of them. When she finished with shirts she began with pants. She took one of them, taking care of the line that had to be in the middle of each leg were in the right place. Sure about the right position of the line, she put it into the luggage. Everything had to be as tidied as she could do it. Because of that she kept focused just on what she was doing. Her mind was empty of other thoughts. What she was doing had to be the most important thing in the whole world. That was the best way to do it, and she perfectly knew it. He was going to need also some sport clothes, his shoes and his tennis, besides socks and boxers. So she took those things too. Even though he was not going to appreciate other kind of things that weren’t so necessary, because he had perfectly shown his troubles to recognize the slight things, mixing and confusing deep with surface, she put his shaver-set, and some toilette things, like soap and shampoo. Surely he was not going to be pretty interested in them, but it was not the point. What was the point? To prepare a perfect luggage and she was doing her best effort to get it. So, she took the list she had prepared the night before and began to look up the articles, making a tick on the left side of the words if the thing appeared where it had to.

Everything was ready. She looked at the watch. She still had time to take a shower before he came back home. After that she drank a cup of greentea, her favorite one when she was interested in enjoying a break, and sat on her black sofa. She still had time to smoke a cigarette. She took the box and with a quick sight she realized the box was almost full, fortunately. She stretched her back over the seat and felt her body too heavy. She lit the cigarette and put the ashtray over her laps. She kept smoking calmly as if it were the last cigarette she was going to smoke in all her life. When she finished it she put the ashtray over the coffee table again. The stub was laying on it rounded by ashes like a corpse in a funeral rounded by flowers.


Just in time the door was opened by him. Everything is ready, she said. I have prepared your things. You just have to pick them. I hope not to see you again, you know…

He took the luggage. Damn it! It’s too heavy. What’s the hell did you put inside it?, he hardly shouted. It seems as if it were full of debris. Could you call a taxi? Are you listening to me? Are you dumb? No, i’m gonna tell you what’s the fucking matter with you. You are crazy. You are absolutely crazy. You look so ridiculous! I hate your full-blown appearance! Not only this…I hate your hole appearance…I hate you, you know, i hate you. I don’t want to see you again!

She locked the door and kept close to it until she could listen to its click. Then she got rid of the ashes that were laying on the ashtray, throwing them in the rubbish. Obviously he was already on the sidewalk.

 

A date

She had tidied her head up. She was ready. In a few minutes they would meet in a pub. At first, everything would be all right. They would talk about their names, their occupations… But after having said “nice to meet you” the silence would become deep.

What would they talk about? She wanted to look like a pretty woman, not like a smart one.

In some sense she was as common as her name. Laura. Neither so beautiful, nor so ugly. Black hair and eyes. A harmonical body into delicate manners. She liked to be in, putting urban’s clothes on herself., usually dressed in jeans. She could be the coolest lady or the most arrogant one. It depended. People who were in front of her could change her smile, the tone of her voice, the look of her eyes. Then she suffered too many changes in different circumstances.

The typical woman who goes by carelessly among a crowd. But if someone stares at her, he surely becomes surprised. At the end, everybody who knew her was pretty interested in her. She didn’t like to speak a lot. She enjoyed listening to other people’s speech. Since she was a little girl she liked to have her own world, full of books and movies. She had liked to stand herself for some character but she would never have found any special one. Instead of it she had practiced the knowledge about herself. Her possibilities. Even her own limits.

She had never thought who she wanted to be. Simply, she had been what she could. She was a bit shy. She needed to take her time to feel trust. Afterwards she could open herself, even looked like a funny woman. Hence if she felt threatened, she could become a wild beast. She knew it perfectly. She hoped not to feel such kind of feelings.

Two unknown people. An easy conversation about movies or books. But when she told him about Adriano’s memories, one of her favourite books, he would see her like a freak or like a fool. And, of course he would forget to ask her phone number.

Had he ever heard the title? Even more, had he thought anytime about death? Would she be able to talk with him about this kind of things? She wasn’t sure about it. Maybe she would have to keep in silence, like an innocent lady, watching his speech out, putting her thoughts away. Was she really ready? Whatever!, she thought. She turned the lights off, locked the door and got out to the street. Maybe he wouldn’t come to the date and her life would go on her lonely way.

She didn’t want to have another bad experience. She remembered the last one. One year ago she had known a man. She had felt they had common things. They could spend time together talking about different points. They liked the same movies and the same literature. He was a nice chance. Of what? She couldn’t know it. .Everything was going in the right way. They began to spend more time together. She had never said anything about her love’s difficulties, but surely, he could imagine her kind of troubles. So she had decided not to tell him who she was in reality. Even though they were meeting frequently, no words about engagement had been said. . She could breath in calmly. Yet. A cold rainy night they had gone to a party.

What do you want to drink? I don’t know…maybe a beer. Well, both of us are going to drink a beer. Do you want a beer? Why are you going to drink it if you never liked it? Today i want the same than you. Both the same…. Yes, both the same

That night he kept in silence. Something in the air was announcing storm. Suddenly he said the magic words: “I want something serious with you”

What‘s the meaning of something serious? Something serious, you know. I don’t know anything about this stuff. Take it easy, baby. It’s just something serious. Just something serious?! Well, you know, another kind of relationship…

Yes…I’m beginning to understand you…both the same…I can’t believe such kind of bullshit!

A deep silence broke in between them. She could still hear the tone of his voice. It had been enough. She felt like a wild wolf in jail. After that, mixing shouts and tears, she had told him: “You wish i were another woman, but i can’t” After having said that, she left him alone, running into the isolated night.

One year ago…What had happened with her since that time? She couldn’t be sure about it. She had remained all the year long closed in herself. She had seen her friends a couple of times. She had been working hardly, and, in her free time, she had spent it watching movies at home, listening to the same songs again, again, and again. Sometimes she read books. She stood in front of her bookcase and she took some reading.

Even though she had never decided to be alone, she had done it perfectly. Last time she didn’t answer the phone anymore. Everybody who called her had to leave messages. After that she took her time choosing what to do with them.

A few months, or weeks or days ago… she couldn’t be sure about time; her phone had been ringing a lot of times. Nobody had left a message when the time to speak had begun. She was over. She couldn’t stop feeling that her life had no sense. She wanted to do something but the song of the phone didn’t let her do anything. She couldn’t put up with it. Then, suddenly, without consciousness about her acts, she answered the call. An unknown man’s voice was calling for help. She could feel a deep anguish in his voice. He was really hopeless. She thought to hang up immediately. But she didn’t do it. Instead of it, she kept on line, listening carefully. In spite of her willings to get away, something was keeping her up

Help please, help, a man’s voice whispered. Who is talking? I need your help, please.. How can i help you? Listening to what i have to say. Listening what? What i have to say.

They kept on a long silence. No one said anything. Suddenly in a deeper lower voice:

Are you going to help me? I don’t know if i can do it. I don’t know if i want to do it…It would be better to hang up the phone. Don’t do it…please. Now I ‘m feeling better. Maybe just the tone of your voice can help me. I don’t think so. How can you be so sure? And beginning to weep: Cause I never can help anyone. Oh! What a lovely tone. This is what you wanted fucking bastard…You make me feel sick. It’s enough! Fuck you man, FUCK YOU!

She had begun to come down. Giving in she hung up the phone.

One year ago…What was the meaning of time? Was the time a relative stuff?
Thinking about that she came closer to the window. The sunset was beginning, and, the small square was almost empty. A few children were playing with a dirty ball. A couple of kids were kissing each other slowly. An old woman was walking with a little dog. both of them had a freak hairdressing. In the street a young man, whose face looked like very hurried, was running from the right corner up to the left one. Nobody else was there except, of course, that homeless who lived in the park since the first time she opened the window.

She was very tired. She was bored of this kind of landscape. She left the window and sat down on her blue sofa. She had bought it three years ago. Since that day, every day, she sat on it as if it were the first time. She touched the blue cotton as slowly as a caress. Then she looked around the room. Her bookshelf was full of books and papers. Some day she had to tidy it up. But, to-day wasn’t the right one.

What could she do? She came in the small kitchen to prepare a cup of tea. There, nothing ever happened. The empty refrigerator and the few dishes over the table showed it enough. With her tea, she came back to the sofa and sat down there again. It would be fine to listen to any music she thought.

The Sony was on. Surely she had forgotten to turn it off the day before She didn’t have a lot of records because when she discovered anyone that she liked she could spend playing it several times since she found another one out. In spite of it she couldn’t choose anyone. The old wood bookcase that she had taken from her family’s house, the blue sofa, the Sony…that was almost her own world. There was also a plant. In spite of her efforts it insisted on staying alive.

What was up with her that day? The cup of tea went on her hand. It seemed as if she were looking for something. She got in her bedroom. The bed sheets were mixing with the clothes that she took off last night. A book whose title she had forgotten was laying on the wood floor.

She had also forgotten her thoughts. She left the cup of tea over the chair beside the bed and turned in watching the ceiling. Black and white. Everything there was black and white. When she moved to this flat she had guessed to have a black bedroom, her favourite color by that time. At last she had painted the middle of the ceiling and two walls in white. So the bedroom looked like a chessboard. She liked it. Moreover she was pretty glad with her big bed. Just for herself! That was great unless she had such kind of days…

The tea was becoming cold. So was she.

She had the green envelope since last week and, yet, it remained as close as when she had received it. She didn’t decide to open it and look into what it meant. She didn’t know what to do with it. Her hands were trembling. Just her address was written over the green paper. At the back, an unknown name, Sean Henson. Maybe because she was so bored…or by chance that day she did something different. Instead of keeping it carefully she tore the envelope in a wild way. A letter was there. She took it immediately. Her hands went on trembling, and her heart had begun to pound wildly. It doesn’t matter, she thought. Whatever will be! Letting a sigh out she began to read the letter.

To you:

Our time has come. I have waited for this moment for a long time. I have imagined the time to introduce myself a lot of times but I never thought to do it in this way. But, now, I don’t have another chance. I was always waiting for the right time, the right way,…you know. At last I had to decide to give you writing words. I know you like reading. Whenever I see you, you have a book in your hands…oh! Your hands…the same that now are holding my letter…Why do you read so much? Please, don’t begin to think…just, listen to me…read my words…You must be thinking who I am. Don’t worry about it. I just want to know you. Well, in some sense I really know you. You are always there…always. Neither so far, nor so near. In spite of it you have never found me out. How is it possible? You are always watching the world out, but just the furthest one. Through your window…through your books…you keep in touch with a very far world. What’s the meaning of it? Life is going quickly and you remain inside your own mind! Oh!…I’m very sorry…excuse me…I didn’t want to tell you such kind of things but I can’t understand you. You are so beautiful and I can’t put up with this wait. I just need to listen to the tone of your voice. Surely it’s as sweet as the look in your eyes when you watch the sunset through the window…But now the sunset is ending.
                                         Yours.
                                              Sean.

Sean Henson…Who was he? Never had she heard that name before…She looked at the window…He was right…The sunset was ending. She could still hear the laugh of the children in the square. In a few minutes, when the night came in, they should come back home. There, they would take a bath, surely. Clear water mixed with colour soap. The bath tub would be full of toys. What a funny! The laughs were going away and the silence of the street began to fall in a very deep way, coming in through the window. He was right…She was living in the furthest world she had ever imagined.

He seemed to be close. Where was he? She took the directory and looked the name up. It was easy to find it. Unaware of her acts she picked the phone up.

She didn't look at me

                                                                                    For M

It was a rainy Saturday night when M and G came home. We hadn’t been together for many weeks. Nick, my son and i were at home. When they arrived i was preparing the bath for Timmy. I had been out all the afternoon, so i had willing to play with my little boy for a while.

M and G were pretty familiar friends. I knew them and they knew me. M was one of my best friends. We had been friends since we were kids. A lot of things had happened in our lives, good things and bad things. We had helped each other many times. We had a full-blown relationship. We accepted the whole differences between us, pretending not to shift each other. When we had some troubles we used to talk about it in a serious and sincere tone. G, her husband, liked pinching other people. In some sense he was this kind of people who enjoy saying what they want to, looking for every pinpoint on the other person, and taking him in without taking care of anything. Sometimes i had felt i couldn’t put up with his style anymore. But, he was my best friend’s husband and i loved her. So i always had tried to overlay his attitude.

When i finished with my son’s bath i came over them. They were looking for some place to buy our dinner. They began to phone to different places but, unfortunately nowhere was giving away meals that night, except such places where you could find just pizza. But nobody felt like eating pizza that night. And we didn’t have any meal at home. So, somebody had to go away to get anything to eat.

No matter, i’ m going to take the car and to bring the dinner. G, do you want to come with me? Nick was a great host for that time. He could do this kind of little sacrifices without any complaint. Perhaps he didn’t feel it like one. I did. I saw the whole of his offer like a sacrifice in some sense.

No, i prefer to stay here. Are you going to go alone? It’s raining…Don’t you prefer to change the plans? I asked. Ok, i will do it.

The three of us sat on the sofa while my son was playing with his trains. Somebody had brought some cans of beer which we were beginning to drink.

A few minutes later Nick’s voice was on the phone. Of course, there was no place open. It was too late. The storm had left part of the town with no electricity and a lot of streets under water. A huge rainy night. No doubts, we had to change plans. I told them that. Then, suddenly, M said to me: what’s going on? what’s the matter with you?, what a fucking face you have on! Yes, what a fucking face! G assured. Are you sure? I didn’t realize it. Trust me, i hadn’t realized it.. Absolutely, both replied at the same time.

Oh, let me see. Perhaps you are right.

After some minutes i broke the silence: maybe you are right…Do you want to know about the reason of my fucking face? Well, if you want to, i will tell you. And, letting a sigh out…: I had preferred someone had gone out with Nick. That’s all.

A deep silence broke in among us. We had stopped talking. Even Timmy kept playing without any word. He had put his little wooden train away. He loved trains. He could spend a lot of time playing with them. Many times he went to the train station and he could keep on there, standing in front of the railroads, waiting for different trains to show up. That night he had stopped playing with them. Every engine was laying on different places on the floor. He had taken his paintings and a white page where he was beginning a drawing. In another situation, if he had kept in silence, i would have thought he was up to something. That was not the case.

Don’t worry, M. It’s not our fault. It’s not our trouble. She has to deal with it, it’s her trouble. Don’t care about it. Just forget it! G assured. G was always assuring everything. Since i met him, eight years ago, i had never heard a little doubt coming from him. Even more, he was an “intellectual” man, or should i say he liked to look like one. So he loved reasons more than feelings, ideas more than material things, data more than experience. He used to show himself like a reasonable man despite his unreasonable manners. Until that moment i had accepted many things, but he was crossing the narrow line. I couldn’t allow it. I didn’t want to allow it.

What are you talking about? Do you mean it’s my trouble? Why did you ask me what’s going on? If you asked me, now it is also your stuff. And you M, why do you keep in silence? Don’t you have anything to do with it? I asked staring at her. M, the journalist was keeping in silence. She was this kind of women who knew how to make questions. Even more she enjoyed talking with different people, trying to understand them, knowing them. She was a professional, even in her social life. She liked thinking different matters and making comments about everything. She used to take her time before talking. Maybe because of that she was so intelligent and sensitive.

I don’t know…I wanted to have a good time, and now we are arguing…should i say, you are arguing, both of you are so similar…I don’t know.

Did she really believe in that comparison? Was she talking seriously? Whatever, we were getting in a slab and heavy way. We could fall in a pit despite we didn’t want to. Things had turned dark. Maybe because of that she was comparing two complete different persons. In such kind of darkness she didn’t look at me anymore.

The World of the Wood

Still today when i hear a fire alarm i can feel my heart pounding wildly. This story began when i was around four. For that time i lived with my family, my parents, two elder brothers, and my grandma in a house which was built in a first floor. Below it there was a furniture-factory. It was called The World of the Wood. The house was a middle-class one, with nothing particularly important. Common furniture as common as the rest of the things that were there. There was a big kitchen, where my mother used to prepare delicious cakes. At the back a middle court, where my grandma had her plants and some time she had also had a little yellow bird in a small cage which had been eaten by an unknown cat. (after that she only kept the plants). Finally, three bedrooms, a hall with a big mirror, and a living room with an enormous table. I spent all my childhood there, so a lot of things happened there.
One day i was in the kitchen with my mother, cooking something surely, when we saw a tremendous black smoke coming from the court. We went out and we realized it was rising from the factory. When i saw the look on my mother’s eyes I felt in danger, that something was wrong.

My mother was a special woman. She was that kind of people who used to live life in a heavy way. She used to turn nervous very easily. The first sign of her transformation happened on her face, more precisely, on her eyes. When something disturbed her, the looking of her eyes changed completely. Her brown eyes began to shine in a peculiar way until they stared at someone. Then, they became terrified. The horror could be seen on them. That morning she looked just like that.

Some seconds later we were waking up one of my brothers, he was still asleep. I have to say it was hard work to do with him generally: get up you! What’s going on? Come on, wake up! Don’t bother me mom…please… Suddenly my mother took the sheets from my brother’s bed out and threw them on the floor. What’s up? The factory is burning. The-fac-to-ry? Yes…The World of the Wood…is burning…the whole world seems to be burning… Oh…yes…that’s the reason i felt too hot, said my brother while he began to put his clothes on.

The three of us went out to the street. A lot of people were there. I can’t be sure if there were too many people, but i felt as if a crowd were around my home. The firemen had begun to work. My mother took my hand tightly and left me in Francis’s house. He lived with his family -parents and a little sister- on the opposite side of the street. During those summer afternoons we had spent a lot of time together riding on our bikes across the neighborhood. That time we sat on the threshold and kept there almost the day long.

That is the last image i remember since the smoke broke out until i see me sitting in the kitchen, keeping in silence, dumb. But this is another story that deserves another place.

The burning of the furniture factory is pretty different than other kind of burnings. It seems as if the whole world were burning. So is the fire alarm. It is very different than other alarms. I mean, i can recognize it perfectly. The others have a different sound. When i hear an ambulance or a police alarm, nothing really happens with me. Even more, i can’t be sure about what kind of alarm is. Nevertheless, when i listen to a fire alarm, everything changes inside me. My body begins to shake, my heart begins to pound strongly, and my whole head becomes silent as if it were dumb. On that occasion a horror feeling traps me heavily. This dumb sound really upsets me. This sound rarely leaves me alone. I mean, i can feel myself completely alone in front of a terrible danger, which comes to me as if it were a ghost. Like a ghost of a death person whom I had sometime loved. Just like that this ghost comes to me, it meets me, but it can never touch me, entirely.

Family call

Hello, hello. Nobody answered, i said to my husband hanging on the phone. A wrong number, surely, he said. Yes, it doesn’t matter, i told him while i turned the lights off trying to fall asleep. Ten minutes later the phone rang again. Hello, hello. Nobody answered again. I told you, a wrong number, just forget it, he said. Yes, you are right, i’m over, and the best thing i can do is to go to sleep immediately.

I tidied my body on the bed, and closed my eyes. But it wouldn’t be easy to reach the sleeping after those calls, and i knew that. Instead of sleeping i was keeping awake thinking about it. Should i say, thinking about the person who had phoned. It hadn’t been a wrong number as my husband had said. I was sure that something was wrong but in a different way.


I had a worst relationship with phone calls you had ever imagined for a long time. In spite of the fact that i was always trying to think, there was no reason for such a feeling, i went on getting nervous when the phone sounded. During ten years my telephone had rang calling for many emergency assistances. My mom’s illness and her death, her mom’s illness and death, and so on…Whatever was wrong, my phone used to ring immediately. It was very difficult to find good news by phone. So was to expect it. My father kept still alive insisting on calling me whenever family’s misfortune happened. He was the only person from my family who used to call me and that was the only reason he found to do it. But he didn’t use to call without telling me the message. Manners, maybe. So, he couldn’t be the person who had called. Thinking about all of that, at last i fell asleep, and had a dream.


I was at home with my husband and my son. Even though i didn’t see them, i knew they were there. Tom, a cousin of my husband was working in my bookcase, trying to put something right. He had left his cell phone on the living-room table. It began to ring. I answered the call -curious! I have said I hate phone calls. Anyway, the mother of my husband was at the other end. She had been talking with Tom, for sure, and she went on with their chat. She was complaining about something related with doctors, they hadn’t treated her in the right way. I asked her what she was talking about. When she realized she was talking with me she hung on immediately. So, i went where Tom was working and told him about the call. He said it seems she doesn’t love you. Yes, she doesn’t love me, of course- obvious comment!
I came back to the living room. It was full of people. Should i say familiar people. I knew everybody there. They had come to give me condolences because of my father death. There were some friends of my husband parents, some women who had been friends of my mother when she was alive and some old grand uncles. I said the living-room was completely full. Suddenly I remembered my grandma. I didn’t know anything about her. I asked an old aunt about her. She hadn’t talked with her. Nobody had talked with her. So i said, oh! she didn’t talk with anybody during the last twenty four hours, how is it possible? Obviously she was dead too.


I received the new about my father’s death by that phone call. The morning that followed my dream someone, at last, decided to leave me the message. I can’t remember who really was.


The fog of his presence would disappear sooner or later

Regular sunset

It was Saturday evening. People began to appear in the street. The stores were full of customers and day was coming to its end. He went through the neighborhood, the green court, as they used to call it.. A lot of jasmines were grown up in houses and streets during the years. So, the seasons of the years were marked by different fragrances, depending on if they had flowers or not. The smell changed during the year like the bright during the day.

He walked enjoying this usual landscape, without talking to anybody. He came across their neighbors and they exchanged glances. He & She, as they used to call them, were passing with their dog. It was a very big one, absolutely black with enormous threatening teeth. Everybody was around used to have friendly puppets, but He & She were different people or, just a little eccentrics.

A few minutes later he got in home. It was time to Jenny’s bath if she were there. But she wasn’t there. He turned in the leather couch and lighted some grass. Jenny loved water. The bath tub had to be full of water. Neither too hot, nor too cold. A lot of toys began to show up on the surface mixing themselves with bubbles. Many of them were damaged. Still she didn’t care about it. she really enjoyed the bath, keeping into the water for a long time, playing with his little broken dolls, dreaming awake with different imaginary worlds.

It looked as if the place had been covered with the ash of the time. The evening had broken in the house, changing brightness to darkness. His soul had got rid of the object he had made. His style seemed to be vanished. He tried to play his guitar, but when he began to put it in tune, the second string jumped and flow into the air. At last he played Closing Time, waiting Waits singing “when you are much older, remember when we sat, at midnight on the windowsill and have this little chat, and dream…come on and dream”. Suddenly he felt without air. He could feel his body as if it were trapped in a deep net.

The living room was in darkness. He turned the lights on. The silence there was as deep as the silence from his no-working TV. It was a black and white one. He had it since he was a kid and he had never taken care to fix it. Over the big scream there was a small picture. A kid around fourteen had taken it when he had gone to Amsterdam. He was standing at a pier, looking at the camera. He focused on the picture and he met himself young and cool. Suddenly he missed his long curled hair. Maybe if I try it on again… he thought.

Inside the living room the atmosphere became heavy. Dr. Lovesick had told him “your mind is full of words, you have to get rid of all of them”. The last ten days he had remained living his life in mute. So, when the bell of his house rang he felt a little upset. Two men in black suites, white shirt, short and tidy hairdressing, cheap shoes, definitely no tennis and a rigid unreasonable smile on their faces, were standing at the door. Both of them were holding the Holly Bible. Their speech sounded very weird. They told him that new age was coming, that God was everywhere, that if he wanted to change his wrecked life he had to pray, he had to know about difference between Heaven and Hell, he had to keep in touch with God.

Not even a single sigh came from him.

After that he locked the door. It wasn’t an easy work either. First of all he had to choose the right key. He had a lot of them. Old keys and new keys…Old places and new places…Even though many of them were completely unnecessary he kept them in his pocket. Whenever he wanted to throw one of them he found any reason to keep them on. So, every time he locked his door he had to spend time thinking what key was the right one. After that he had to check the right side of the key. His house’s key was very different than others. The usual mark inscription was at the back, so he had to introduce it as if he were doing it in the opposite way. Nevertheless it wasn’t enough to have the right key on the right side. On that moment he could obviously introduce it…but…to turn it over, it was something serious. If he wanted to do such kind of thing it would be necessary to do something else. Should I say something completely different. He had to introduce the key slowly, very slowly, pretending not to shake at all. So, with his left leg, he had to kick the wooden door until he could hear the click of the lock. When it happened he could be sure to turn over the key. Many times he ended with something like “this fucking door”, or something like that. Of course it wasn’t so necessary, in some sense. 

Tom Waits´s Midnight Lullaby
and at last it could be possible to hear the song. Turn it on, please, if you want...

Ann & Tim

                                                                       
Ann was watching TV at home when suddenly the phone rang. Hello? Hello, how are you? Oh, fine. What about you? Fine too. What are you doing? Nothing, you know. Are you alone? Yes, and what about you? I was thinking to see you. What about hanging over together? Yes, why not? OK, so i m going to pick you up in twenty minutes.. Ok, see you later.

Ann took a quick shower, changed her clothes, she was ready when Tim called the door. Nice shirt. Do you think so? What are we gonna do? I don’t know. Do you want to go to a bar? I don’t know. Well, there are some possibilities, you know. We can go somewhere or we can go to my house, there is nothing really special there, you know, but it could be cool…

They got in his car and rode to his home. As always they talked about job, friends, lovers and this kind of things that can be talked by two close friends. They were such kind of friends. They had met ten years before and they loved each other in a special way. They had never had more than a friendly relationship, but they had such kind of intimacy. So, they went on talking about their lives when they went inside Tim’s flat.

Ann knew it. It was a nice little place. The necessary things were there and also a little more. Tim had taken his time in its deco and he had obtained a good result. He had everything in the right place. Everything was so tidy and so clean that she felt well in that place. Even though it was not her own place she could feel as if she were in it. She took off her shoes and played the White Album. Beatles were friends as well.

Tim put two glasses over the small table and poured the pinot noire. Do you want anything to eat? Of course she was not going to eat anything. When she drank a good wine she preferred to do it without meals. She liked to drink slowly, feeling the pure taste going through her throat. She used to do it in spite of the bad consequences that it could have. She knew perfectly she could end the night in a bed that was not the right one. She knew it. She knew the effects that wine could have in her mind. As long as she drank in that way something like that could happen. At those times she could feel her mind more open than usually. Also her feelings. So, it was easy to do something wrong.

No, i don’t want anything.

They kept drinking until the bottle was empty. How sad! We don’t have more wine, what are we going to do now?, Ann laughed while she turned on the black sofa, closing her eyes. Don’t do it!, please. Just relax, man, i need a rest.

The world had begun to go around her head. At first, slowly, but, a few minutes later it was doing it quickly. Ann wanted to open her eyes but she was afraid to fall deeper. She wanted to stop it but in spite of her efforts she couldn’t do it.

What’s going on? Are you falling asleep? His voice seemed to come from a further place. Ann kept in silence. Not even a single word came from her mouth. He leaned his beard on her belly and closed his eyes too. Unexpected kind of feelings began to rising between them.

Ann opened her eyes and realized she was absolutely drunk. Nevertheless she went on the stuff. Suddenly she felt like having go to a bathroom. She had drunk a lot. She went in, and, before closing the door she began to feel sick. Her stomach was turned. In spite of her intentions she couldn’t stop throwing up everything she had drunk before. When she ended she tried to clean up the place. It wasn’t very easy. It was completely dirty. Still she did it as she could.

What’s going on? Nothing really special, you know…turning in the sofa, closing her eyes, beginning to fall asleep, deeply.

You

Where are you? Please, stop playing hide and seek…Come on…just come on, please. Let me tell you something. There are a lot of things i wish to tell you. I would like to explain so many things. But, how can i do it in a right way? Surely you don’t know anything about it. Should i say what the meaning i am talking about really is. Oh! What are you doing now? Just listen to me. Are you worried about anything? Do you feel bad? You seem as if you were in another world. Do you? Come on, please…watch me out… I want another kind of relationship between us. I hope we can spend more time together in a pretty different way. Can you understand me? Why are you always looking at me with non-understanding eyes? Well…I shouldn’t be surprised about it. As always it seems as if you never took care of anything. How can you live like that? I supposed it wasn’t possible since i knew you. Because of that, maybe, sometimes i would like to be in your place. Yes, i have to admit it. When i see you living this kind of life, every time laying on the sofa, or eating or playing with something i want to be like you. I could try to do it but i can’t be sure about if i could succeed with my challenge. So, despite the fact that i can do my best efforts, i don’t know…we are so different, you know…I’m not ready to take such a decision. Nevertheless, in some sense sometimes i feel very similar to you. When i feel alone in the whole world, doing without everything, keeping in silence for a long time, keeping in touch with my own mind, i guess we aren’t as different as we can imagine. No please! Don’t leave me alone in this moment! Please, come back and sit close to me. i need to feel you are with me. I perfectly know you are not interested in what i’m telling but i need to do it. I just want to go on with my speech. Please, put your willings away during this time. I will try not to turn myself boring. It is a promise, isn’t it? What another thing do you need now? I think you have everything you want, however you seem so nervous now. Suddenly you got rid of your usual calm. What’s the matter with you? Whenever i want something, you decide to change the way. Are you listening to me? Oh! Stop doing it! Stop it! Just relax…

Do you want anything to eat? Well I’ll give you something…Oh! Surely your face is changing now…This is the power of food. Don’t you think so? It is amazing! Someday i will prepare a big party for you. I hope to do it. This day we are going to clean the house up. To tidy everything up. I wish you would be glad about it. I love parties. In spite of the efforts it means it is wonderful to spend a happy time with others. So that day i will prepare a special meal to you. Do you know what you will want to eat in that occasion? Well, take it easy…you can think about it. You have time. When you know about your choice you have to tell me…Do you have a favorite meal? Many people have one. I can’t understand it, but sometimes it happens. It is unbelievable, isn’t it? I think you agree with me, you always eat the same, don’t you? Are you over with it? I don’t think so. Many years ago something like that happened to me. I could spend a long time eating the same meal. I had my periods, of course. I want to say when i met something i liked i kept eating it until i got tired to do it. So, tomatoes period; pumpkins period; chickens period; cheeses period; it could have been the story of my life. It had been funny, hadn’t it? But suddenly something changed. I never knew the real reason but my meal- periods vanished like air in the wind. At first i was afraid to vanish with the matter of meal. I didn’t know how i could live without it. I was not hungry at all. I didn’t take care about meals. And, at last, i began to feel sick. Life was turning to an awful thing. An absolutely non-sense thing. I had lost interest in everything. I could turn in all the day long and generally I fell asleep. When I was sleeping, i remember, i used to dream with enormous pieces of meats that were running into me. When i woke up i couldn’t be sure about if it had been a dream or not. Life was going on this way and i just kept in touching with my dreams. Sometimes i woke up stronger than the day before. When it happened, i guessed, i was able to find my old life again. Unfortunately this kind of feeling didn’t last very much. Generally something different took up the scene that showed me i was wrong. Something like another kind or dream, i mean.

When someone is living this kind of experience, terrible things can be up. Something has to end with the hopeless. Luckily it happened.

In those days i couldn’t put up with the situation anymore. Everything i had loved and liked had disappeared. I felt another person, but i didn’t know who i was yet. So life was going by separately from me.

I was living, of course, but without any consciousness i was doing it. I have to say i felt rare, i was feeling like a strange man. And, i was one. I told you i couldn’t eat anything and, at last i couldn’t sleep either. My dreams…oh! my terrible dreams were not there any longer. I kept all day long thinking the matter about. I couldn’t find an answer for this situation until my body came to help me. Of course at first i couldn’t understand it, but, at the end the stuff was as clear as water. Let me tell you how it happened. Maybe you are going to think i was crazy, but, if you listen to me, you’ll understand it was not the case. Craziness is an absolutely another thing. I’m talking about real things, things that happened actually. They are not fantastic ideas or dreams or feelings. It is not about the mind of a man can create. It is not about what a desperate man can imagine. Never mind! I was not crazy at all! I was living a strange experience in some sense, but this kind of things can happen to every common man. Common men like me or someone else. This is the truth and you should know it. And if you want to know the real meaning of my experience, just listen to me…please.

I told you my body helped me a lot. Should i say, my body had begun to live in a separate way. I was listening to some rare noises which were coming from my stomach. I guessed it was caused because i had stopped eating. But one day i could realize they weren´t simple “noises”, you know. I mean, if i heard them carefully I could hear clear words coming from there. So i began to pay attention because i was sure there was a secret message i had to know. During some weeks i kept on watching it out. I couldn´t do another thing except to try to understand what it was telling me. It was not an easy work. The noises from the street were bothering me. I closed every window carefully, but it wasn´t enough. My neighbours, pretending to help me, had begun to whisper beside the walls of my flat. What could i do then? They were decided to wreck my life, evidently. The most silent room of my apartment was my small kitchen. It´s unbelievable what a man has to learn to live his own life. So i just moved everything i needed there. My bed, some clothes and also a table lamp. Nevertheless i should say they weren´t as necessary as i had supposed. In spite of this fact i felt a little better with that new situation. In a complete silence i would listen to my stomach perfectly. Other silent days went by until the first message was said.

“With nothing”, were its first words. I was sure it had said it to me. But, what did it mean? Suddenly I had no doubts. I had to throw everything. And i did it. I took all my furniture and i got rid of them. I don’t remember the way i did it, but i remember the empty flat, i can still watch myself, sitting on the wooden floor, among nothing except you. You…my little puppy. You remained alive despite the fact that i never took care of you in those days.

You…what can I say about you? You, my best partner, sweet little thing, i love you so much…and i loved you a lot then. I miss you. I miss your bright eyes, your innocent face, your beautiful body… I also miss your company, your silent presence, your wise existence. How could you leave me alone? How could it happen? I remember those beautiful days. Both, you and me, keeping in touch, together. I had thought that was the solution for all my troubles. So, after having thrown everything, i kept there enjoying my new silence life. But that new situation didn’t last as long as i had guessed. After some days, those familiar words showed up again. At first i couldn’t understand what was happening. I had done what i had to do…So, what did they really want? Had i understood the message? If it was going on, i had not done it in a right way. I kept close to my stomach, listening to it carefully, i would have even stopped breathing if i had had the power to do it. With such a kind of efforts i was in an almost complete silence. Even though i remained waiting, i began to lose my hope. Meanwhile i began to feel weak, my forces had vanished, i was desperate. I hardly had air when the message was said again. I was right. I hadn’t heard right. Instead of “with nothing” it had said “eat roughing…”.It had been enough. I didn’t need more explanation. I understood immediately. I understood everything. I had not even a little doubt.

The taste was not what i had expected. Maybe because of my empty stomach; or maybe because i had never prepared that kind of meal before. I don’t know. I did my best efforts to cook you in a right way. Whatever! The fact is i ate everything despite that awful taste. Suddenly the words had disappeared. A few minutes later i could feel an amazing sensation. I was free and i could feel alive, at last.