Anton
check on her bed and recaps some things he was talking to Javier few minutes ago, before it was Javier, Javier with a smile on his face, not really smile has the slightest basis ... but they need to smile?
- To prove you're not dreaming, I'll tell you a secret history.
- Top secret. A secret accounts just barely.
- Sandra. Of your trip.
- Well.
- After a week since he left in February, I called a couple of times. As I was preocupadazo not return, I gave him money just for a couple of days, just to quick return, whatever it was that was to do.
- A touch. Lately everyone making me confident, can you tell why?
- No idea, Javo. I guess you're face reliable, good face, or face asshole, whatever. Or because you forget very quickly what you are told. Besides you came here really wanting to, well, here's reality. Some people ---
time - Ya. Well, not answered?
- He did a sms short. I was satisfied with her life, that everything was going well ...
- Asu.
- obviously did not think either the first letter. I even said what the hell was going to Trujillo, just that sometimes you have to be spontaneous and crap like that. I will not lie, I did not like the message. But on reflection it easy, if everything went well in another city, I could only imagine that everything was going wrong here ... and finally, every one who makes his living, no? It is their decision, I thought.
- I pour a little rum? I bought a bottle looks more and I can not take too ...
- Save it for another day for you. I do not hesitate to buy this thing.
- Ok. And then you can know what happens? Since then, he left, I as usual I find just five months later where he went, and ...?
- Well, I said nothing, then the sms. I do not know. I kept quiet. She was quiet. Enjoy the silence, you know? Occasionally, my phone rang, it was a hidden number. Occasionally, his ring, a hidden number. No idea.
- Ah, the stupid little game of hidden numbers stamped. But easy rang you you was this leg that Chamba you last year you said that Anthony, while twisting the eyes, sissies.
- By the way ... a Christmas lateando were in the middle, I told you? I was cagadazo, had launched the computers in the work, that Roe who works with me was there at that moment, then he said were some criminals who did everything he hid it that I had a nervous breakdown. Do not know what to do, not knowing where to go, it was dark, and I went to Puente Grau, to sit on the edge. And I was there, watching the cars pass, always pondering the details, things that concern me, you know, I see sick days are passed in a flash and others who do not have when they finish. And Sandra suddenly appears, with the Vans viejazas these, as fresh as ever ---
- This egg producing has always been.
- ... and it starts to make a stupid pun. I asked what was I doing there, what a coincidence to see you here, "makes friecito tonight", no nothing. Things just happen and it is not wanted explanations. He saw me sitting there and asked me to accompany her to buy bread. Not flinch, did not ask, that's it. I guess that's why they went to Trujillo without too much trouble, just came up and God knows he's doing now, selling pebbles on unsuspecting tourists Huanchaco or vocalist in a jazz band. I have no idea, and frankly, I wish I did not care. But I care. That night, at Puente Grau, she was half-baked, I think, always seems to be baked at home as smoke from the kitchen brought Macon, ever said that and shit of laughter "You have discovered my secret-secret for dinner, now always be wary of my loins blown.
- Hahaha.
- And that day started to spin around. I invited a few cigarettes, while discussing the eternity of squash or something. I do not remember.
- Not only that, you're a jerk he has always been that way, too. I still play your BIFF, you laugh at their taradeces, and do worse taradeces with it. No wonder you suddenly fucked, slap, disappeared.
- Yes, but you know what? That Christmas, I was wrong, wrong. And I forgot all those pods.
- Sandra, an antidepressant? Take it in moderation.
- Total arrested a few hours just because he got to sing in the square pool. I may sound stupid, but I miss those moments. Not for the arrests, the spines chipped or those things ... I do not know. The well spent.
- Sandra Classic. Oh, a good débotchka jorjochós with Gruden, hehe.
- The always drink you up faster, no?
- My yarboclos in your icing, you could not videar nothing druguito mine.
Javier Perhaps the smile had more to do with alcohol than anything else, but that did not count so much. Antón long suspected that this was the drunk idiot, just to speak more calmly. The dream begins to beat and Anton decided to leave the rest of the memories for tomorrow, wrapping sheets. Suddenly, The doorbell rings again. "Javo probably have forgotten something or have repented or want more alcohol, well, ultimately it is the same," thought Anthony, a little annoyed because it seems no longer sleep. Get out of bed lazily, while the ringing sound is repeated, insistently. He sees the bottle half the room and takes her to the door. "This drunk filth is desperate for this liquor three to the environment, not hear or the first letter of what I said about their dreams." When you open the door, it stays cold. It is Javier.
- Hey, Anton, it seems that someone started the party early.
- ...
- Not only that, above with the pajamas? Haha, Hey, hope you have not been taking the peak ... You give a whole new meaning to the term "pajama party." Take another glass, Would You? Thank you.
- Sandra.
- Ajam, so I called my mom. For the singer, you know. Or at the beach, Mom always gives conflicting data when there drink involved. A wine purchase plan and mommy happy birthday to remind takes your name chose half a hippie festival.
- What are you doing here? When you come to Arequipa? What happened to your phone?
- Now, apparently, I join a party-man. What are celebrating, huh? I ran Javier on the door. What was that cup?
- can be two-person party with a glass. Just best peak.
- God, Cabo Blanco? As you take this thing?
- The bottle is not even mine!
- Two-person parties ... convert it into a duet.
- Let's duet.
- This movie is straw. Bring vasoooooo. You can not imagine the things I have to tell you.
- You are a scoundrel. Go to the room, I expected a tap change. We need to talk. Anton
surprised at the ease with which it operates. The naturalness of the two. Not seen in months, yet the dialogue flows as before, perhaps more for her will, or the complicity of it, but it runs. Begins to change, while some ideas will come to mind. "What this mongolita freshness. If it had gone ten days, sure I would say the same 'The things that I have to tell', and accelerated start to talk about every detail of your stupid life, with no attention to my questions, and telling only what seems most funny counting. Worst of all, I do and it is as if everything was correct. Come to find out how many different versions of the same story I hear the following day. But at least, is here. --- You are here. " Anton's thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the toilet accompanied by loud laughter and a little twang of Sandra. "On top of this dumb shits of laughter and ... It is as if we'd fired yesterday, in a way that simply was a touch, but it is here." Anton is looking glasses in the kitchen. Suddenly, the question "I listen to him, is the worst, or best of all?" He stood, a blank mind. "Do not just tell what I missed Javier now ...? Why persist in ... in ... "
Sandra enters the kitchen.
- no clean glasses, right? Haha, I wash.
- ...
- Hey, why do you remain silent?
- Sand-rex.
- What?
- Sand-rex just.
- So I got my mom, so you just tell me. And by the way, just say that when you mean something else and you fag.
- Sep.
- you know like the back of my dirty dirty hand. Now, where did you leave the Toad-frog-toad-sapolio? By the way I take to clean a bit, twenty-four hours in a bus or something like Brothers Travel has left me Malaza.
- Look behind those dishes.
Anton goes to the room, while Sandra begins to sing loudly a song unknown to him, but going with something you have seen elephants, kings or Peru (?). Rum not find anywhere, but a it goes to the bathroom smell. The entire contents of the bottle is gone down the toilet. "These times." Drops a sigh.
- Hey, for birthdays, Javier rum?
- Yes, really sucks.
- What shall we take now?
- Sana, purified and perhaps pasteurized tap water, choche.
- How old do we meet?
- Six? Seven?
- No, but really it.
- Two or three.
- In two or three years, I think I consider an act of good taste flushed down the toilet the rum?
- Well, you boot it down the toilet anyway, maybe a few hours after taking it, perhaps seasoned with what you've eaten more early, but the same thing.
- Oh, God. Your old jokes never change, no?
- Chapa your just water. And I hope you have all the ears that the story of my life in Trujillo is a ca-gue-de-ri-sa. Like any good drama, I think the end ---
- No, wait.
- I hope? I hope what? No questions were harassing me? "Where were you, what happened to your cel, has gained" etc.
- Sand-rex.
- What? Han
Anton entered the room, and both are sitting on the bed, bed whose seams in the sheet, poorly patched, they fail to hide many holes on the brown surface. One of these holes is covered by the glass Anton just left over, while Sandra looks, puzzled, because no one has said anything since the "What?". Looking in the eyes of Sandra, Anton avoid thinking ten, twenty, a hundred times as common things in it. Avoid thinking an infinite number of times, and the hand that once held a glass vase that now covers a hole in his bed, bed we are both sitting with a bottle of water straight from the pipe where the other hand makes wiped a few minutes but is now resting on the edge of wood, with a tremor so slight that it would be impossible to notice for anyone who is not Anthony, whose hands now gently grabs Sandra's face, surprising both remain silent, it should be recalled, over holes brown, legs spread slightly, because Anton had just woken up just minutes ago and did not have time to order anything in his room. They are in the most perpetual silence, a silence that otherwise Anton equate to a dream that told a friend, but current circumstances prevent you think of Anton anything but the face is temporarily attached to their body through their fingers and say to himself, very, very quietly "It's real. This is the only real thing this time. " And maybe the face that joins the body of Anton through his fingers thinking something similar, or want to be convinced of the reality of the situation, but instead of relying on those nails that have appendages at the end of our arms, choose convince [repeat it in silence, the silence that can be felt in a crowd late at night, or a quiet afternoon accompanied by the creaking of the furniture], choose convinced that part of our mouth often confused with it, and should be clarified this is only the outside, its fleshy envelope so to speak, choose convince her lips, approaching five centimeters per second to their peers in the face of Anthony, to their surprise that [repeat ...] are silent because sometimes there is nothing to say, sometimes talking Permanently not communicate, sometimes things are said with fingers more than letters, because ten fingers are ten fingers and
- I've extr ---
- Shh. Me too. Me too.
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