She calls and he does not respond. She does not understand why she wants them to see themselves, they take a coffee together, they are friends. At first she did not wonder why he does not respond, and then she said that perhaps this is not so easy for him to drink coffee with her, be her friend now. She continues to call and one day he meets. It's almost too late already, or it will be soon, for coffee, she likes the time of closure, it remains alone on the terrace, all the tables around deserted her, and silent street, and the lights on the vacuum. She drinks a last coffee with eyes lost. She calls him and he finally answered. They will be the next day. He guesses that she is still in a cafe, there to be only a little at the time of closing. She feels he would blame him almost to be again, to sleep so late so soon.
They see the next day, already the night in a cafe. She wonders how long does it match, how long she has not seen, she does not know really.
He did not see her, he knew it was a bad idea to see her in a cafe, like all these pictures of her that he still sees too long from now, his hair very black and body almost disappeared, suddenly, it was this body of death like its predecessor, and his eyes still lost somewhere when it arrives, it is always already there, sitting in a cafe, with night. He knew he would not answer him, see - that this is not the same, to see really, and he could not. Just sitting in front of it he has his eyes on the black face, his eyes that burn and print, still, she looks at him without seeing him, she looks like a vacuum around it, and he said he would never accept the view, to see that she is still there, very black hair, the body almost disappeared. He does not know if it's panic, desire - the malaise that grips each time and its violent body, he hoped it would not be the case this time he did seen for a long time, - And perhaps it was precisely because of that, because he had almost forgotten what it was to see her. He feels his throat, his stomach is tied and he knows it is now inevitable, that is, throughout his body, blocked, he can not do anything about it or understand it a little - in a moment, he knows he will have to say, excuse me a moment and he'll get up, calmly, trying to look calm, walk slowly towards the toilet, as someone who simply go to the toilet, and then, when there will be more on him, his look, to rush, and he knows he will vomit again, vomit, vomit his desire her, her discomfort with her-as if it was something that his body could not stand, could not extirpate, and he had to go again, every time, every coffee to be friends now It was endless.
She looks and she says it's funny, he finally responded, it's a good thing can have a coffee, to be friends, talk a little, after all this time without answer, try again for a coffee. She smiled vaguely, or maybe she forgets to smile, she says that now he will answer no doubt they will more often it does not why they stopped seeing each other, to cafes, to be friends.
He said, excuse me a moment. She looks at who gets up quietly, it just goes to the bathroom.
0 comments:
Post a Comment