It got so hot everyone staggered rather than walked. Longing for a break. Which came. With the rain. Thunderstorms being one of the city’s secrets.
+++
Trucks, motorbikes, cars, neighbours, rain, all of them interrupting his steadfast concentration as they rehearsed. A concentration focussed as much on making sense of the language as the text. If there was any real distinction.
+++
A soft porn star was being interviewed on the café TV. With clips from her finest moments. Her name is Camilla Valesco Infartante. A studio discussion followed. In the background a cheesy English hit so ante-deluvian this was probably the last time it would ever be played.
+++
He missed his bus stop. Slightly disorientated. The bus stopped at a corner with a bar with hundreds of people sat outside. It was the middle of the night. Around 2am. He tried to work out who they were and what they were doing there. It could have been a film set. Then he worked out where he was and realised it wasn’t.
+++
He was seated outside at a restaurant with Ana. They’d been to see The Wrestler together. Their order consisted of a green salad, asado to share, a plate of fried potatoes (a speciality of the house Ana insisted on), a bottle of water and a bottle of beer. The night was warm but cooler than it had been. A car pulled up in front of them. He could see the driver’s face in profile. The driver had a sweater wrapped around his shoulders. As he got out of the car, he was clearly recognisable as H’s father.
He turned to Ana and said its Hector and A half turned and he said, no don’t look, hiding his head behind Ana’s. The driver walked into the bar. Ana asked if H’s father wouldn’t come to ‘saludar’, and he said he didn’t think so. After a while he got over the surprise and the food came and he stopped hiding his head. Then, as they were finishing their food, the man came out of the bar and got into his car and drove off. And it was obvious straight away on the second time of seeing that it had never been H’s father all along.
+++
+++
Trucks, motorbikes, cars, neighbours, rain, all of them interrupting his steadfast concentration as they rehearsed. A concentration focussed as much on making sense of the language as the text. If there was any real distinction.
+++
A soft porn star was being interviewed on the café TV. With clips from her finest moments. Her name is Camilla Valesco Infartante. A studio discussion followed. In the background a cheesy English hit so ante-deluvian this was probably the last time it would ever be played.
+++
He missed his bus stop. Slightly disorientated. The bus stopped at a corner with a bar with hundreds of people sat outside. It was the middle of the night. Around 2am. He tried to work out who they were and what they were doing there. It could have been a film set. Then he worked out where he was and realised it wasn’t.
+++
He was seated outside at a restaurant with Ana. They’d been to see The Wrestler together. Their order consisted of a green salad, asado to share, a plate of fried potatoes (a speciality of the house Ana insisted on), a bottle of water and a bottle of beer. The night was warm but cooler than it had been. A car pulled up in front of them. He could see the driver’s face in profile. The driver had a sweater wrapped around his shoulders. As he got out of the car, he was clearly recognisable as H’s father.
He turned to Ana and said its Hector and A half turned and he said, no don’t look, hiding his head behind Ana’s. The driver walked into the bar. Ana asked if H’s father wouldn’t come to ‘saludar’, and he said he didn’t think so. After a while he got over the surprise and the food came and he stopped hiding his head. Then, as they were finishing their food, the man came out of the bar and got into his car and drove off. And it was obvious straight away on the second time of seeing that it had never been H’s father all along.
+++
No hay comentarios.:
Publicar un comentario