"Then she called and said, I have not stopped thinking about you at all this time. "
Lorraine is typing on his computer, eternal insomniac. A scarf protects from the cold in the city, potentially murderer at this time "Potentially murderer and all," he thinks. You have a manila envelope on the bed, and smile thinking of the possible permutations that language allows. "An envelope on the bed of my nephew, left over from a Saturday sober." Briefly considered include it in its history, but rejects it as too easy. The envelope has arrived in the morning, with his name written on it and a script that could easily recognize, despite that long without seeing that letter, square and graceless. Sent it Paul, from a city with an unpronounceable name in Germany. In another era, Lorena, eager to know about life in Europe, would have devoured the contents of the shipment, boasting postcards with his acquaintances, memorizing every detail that could be interesting or exotic. In another era, as Lorraine has been for several hours dangling the possibility of burning the envelope without opening it. As he burned all the things you remember Paul, bracelet, stuffed animals, boxes. Momentarily startled, "And when there is nothing to burn, I set fire to myself."
A sealed letter, remember Lorena, cleaning his glasses, is a lot of possibilities. Can be a gift, a farewell, an ad can be terrible, happy news. A sealed letter is like any secret matter of Proteus: Just open it will catch a tangible existence and be part of your life, whether news or images. As always, the secret away just when the fun begins. A sealed letter is a thousand times more interesting than one open.
The envelope continues in bed, oblivious to the ravings Lorene, immutable.
- could do so much with you, letter-de-Paul. Following the logic applied to the wrist-de-Paul, the ring-de-Paul, roses-de-Paul, you should throw it away or burn it. However, you appear at a time nothing wakes me up too much interest in life. I have no way of knowing what the impact would you cause me, once you read. Impact is enough to see you there, lying in my bed, which once was also bed-de-Paul. Guess what? Only thing I am certain: If you have not read, I regret it, because it is probably the last letter he sent me, so far as it surely is. If I read it, I also regret it, because it is probably more of the same.
Continued on the bed, immutable.
- Ah, you probably play now to be the interesting, no? Sure, a bed and shows him already, stretched out like a armchair, giving the good life, while I just wrote this story that takes days and the final very contrived to me, ah, the stories of calls and a second or third or tenth opportunities. And perhaps the information you hiding inside is just what I need ... Or maybe just what you do not need. Deciding how to take a course of action, seeing it as alien to the problem. Come on, give your opinion! Do or do not want to be read? Immutable
.
- Perhaps then, right? Let me finish this. You'll leave saved.
Lorena keeps on the shelf, including some who do not read books for years. Is returning to the computer, when someone knocks on the door of his room. Dawn in a few hours and know that should not be up so late, certainly in the case of his father, trying to convince of the benefits of eight hours of sleep, eight hours work, eight hours of waiting, but even the voice that comes from the other the door is terribly familiar, it is not no family. "I'm coming," says Javier.
- ...
- Jesus, Mary and Joseph Chain. You just talk?
- Excuse me?
- By phone, you were talking to someone. You just talk?
- Yes, I'm done with that.
"With an envelope at a distance terribly Ultimately, I guess. "
- And ...
- Costume rum. No, wait, I left it where Anton.
- New Best Friend?
- Nothing, one was enough. Besides he is already with best friend.
- Not interested.
- I figured you'd say something.
- So you thought that you also say "What the hell are you doing here", right? Lorena
looks, from head to toe. How the hell convinced his father to spend? Above, there is a smell of rum in the air that fails to conceal. "Drunk, underdressed and over in cahoots with my old. Why must they be? --- Always "
- Hey, I had a dream. Ago few hours.
- Me too. But my ultimate dream was months ago. I do not dream.
- do not believe you.
- That I do not care. Javier
shut up, looking in the eyes of Lorraine. She has come with a pen to one of the shelves and grabs
an envelope. Tacha and again the court, until it is impossible to read anything.
- see this, Javier?
- Whose?
- Never mind. Things are more symbolic value sometimes. What we do with the envelope?
- Whose?
- What we do with the envelope? Javier
sight.
- The logical thing would be to open it and see what you have inside.
- Aha ...
- but not any logic that you've crossed out the name, or no logic to have who knows how long without having open, let alone that I'm here at this time, wanting to tell a dream, right?
- Aha.
- You have not read, right?
- No. You see where I go, right?
- Take a walk and see what we do with him. By the way I'm telling you my dream.
- I told you I'm not interested.
- then there will be no problem if you tell on the road. Lorena
holds on to his chest, as if protecting a child from the weather, trying to give part of their body heat, making sure that nothing happens. Javier, his hand, walking silently, cold helping the last traces of rum to dissipate from your mind. "Ah, obviously, now tell me a thing. Just as well, do not believe it, letter-de-Paul? ", She thinks, smiling at the envelope in his arms. The lanterns light the streets near the house of Lorraine, covered chairs and moss, as they walk, unconsciously clinging to one another, seeking to maintain the temperature between the two. She stops to see a house.
- I like this house?
- I do not care.
- "I do not care" "I do not care" "I do not care." That's all you can say?
- appears.
"It really is very beautiful, but I have no desire to talk about it; or discuss anything with anyone. Leave me alone. I do not know why you came, sad excuse of wanting to tell a dream. I just want to be alone. Just leave me alone. "
Javier is talking about a dream he had, while Lorena, attentive to the words, walk staring at the walls. He stops to see the inscriptions on some, interrupting the narrative.
- What are you looking at?
- "Marita and Richard 4ever - 04/05/1999"
- More than ten years. What do you think of them, Lorena? What are they doing now?
- I'd like to read "Using vandalism together on other walls", right? I do not think. Most likely is that they are concerned with real things, study, work, do not know. Serious things. It's nice sometimes leave a 4ever, 4ever but I do not last more than a few months.
- Well, it so happens that Marita is my cousin and my brother Richard.
- Yes?
- Claro. Married for twelve years, have two sons, nephews straws you could ask for, recontra Cachetones. It is a complete surprise to see this registration, I guess they are.
- Yes? Do you call the children?
- Michelangelo and Raphael.
- Ah, artistic, your cousins.
- More tortuguísticos.
A smile forms on the lips of Lorraine.
- It was time that you'd laugh.
- I've only smiled a little.
- Jaja. This paper is not going cold woman. How are you going to laugh at my cousins \u200b\u200btortuguísticos, please.
- I know we can do with the envelope.
- What?
- Come to the square and end its life.
- Well.
accelerate the pace, and Javier starts talking about the possible meaning of the blue haze in his sleep, shuffling possibilities Lorena knows, he knows of these things, knows that they are not really that he thinks. Before he read what she already sensed in his words, reach the square.
- Botémoslo here.
- In this bottomless pit, incredible depth, Cemetery bottles of wine?
- Exactly. This place is ideal for hauling things. Also to sit and look at stars at night, no?
- Let the honors. But before that ...
- What?
- You're not gonna say who is right?
- You you can imagine. And I suppose that someday I'll tell you.
- Godspeed, unknown letter from an unknown person, hopefully that does not have an unknown amount of money in, because we would unknowingly stupid.
"Would not know," she thinks Lorena, to see about hitting the bottom. "And hopefully the last thing you never know." Javier is supported by one of the gates, watching the square. She leans over the rail, wrapping up with the scarf.
- Well, I'm late.
- Wait a while.
- A while. Look
Javier, hoping to say something. Has finished the story of his dream before tossing the envelope, and not say anything else, apart from some who know how inconsistent theories.
- Well ...
- was you.
- Ah?
- You, you were the girl's dream. The disappearing into dust, which I imagine was all they had in the world. I was the fog.
- Well, I see, I have not disappeared.
- No, you're here.
- Y?
- do you have to always make it so complicated? Why, if you know how difficult it is for anyone to say these things?
- I do not know. Nobody asks you to say the things you say. You do it because you want to do it, I hear you because I have another.
He sighs, his breath warm, appears as a cloud of vapor that quickly dissipates into the air. Lorena imitates, creating a cloud like one after another, eventually choking.
- Clumsy.
- I think I've made cold air. Tomorrow morning I wrong. We take responsibility to you.
- If you want, no problem for me.
- Responsible irresponsible.
- Take my coat, you'll freeze.
- Hey, it was called the husband Marita your cousin?
- My cousin Marita? I have no ning --- No, wait.
- Hahaha. And I felt that I had invented it.
- Never mind. Marita and I am convinced that Roger still together, whether or not my cousins.
- Richard.
- Whatever.
- Hey, really it is too late. And to you and you missed the rum.
- I can be corny?
- Just listen to him.
- "I can not live without you."
- Terribly corny and trite.
- "Sounds stupidly corny, but it's true."
- Idem. Amazing, no alcohol present.
- What will you do tomorrow?
- I have to give some papers in the middle.
- And there?
- I guess I have the whole afternoon free.
- We go to movies or something?
- Only if we see something that I want.
- Agreed. According woman.
For the first time that night, Lorena Javier looking eyes. It is easy to see that he has taken a load off and walk casually speaking French film directors, some who may have seen for years. Lorena smiles, thinking, "So things happen. No melodrama, no romance, just go. To stop and analyze the situation, could have done better, not every day you say something. But life is anything but salad pink hearts that we want to sell. What will be tomorrow at the movies? ".
She embarks on a taxi, and parting, Lorena note below with the jacket on. "I shall return tomorrow," Javier enough to tell from inside the car. It makes hand goodbyes, before going to his room and finish a paragraph that was concerned.
"He calmed down and focused on himself, he says, not me."
She lies, wrapped in black leather. Happiness sometimes takes strange forms, think Lorena finally embracing the coat-of-Javier, before returning to sleep. And dream again.
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