Waking up

Sometimes you come to my dreams, even if I don't want to dream about you, and you seem as real as the pages I write because of you. When less expected you come to steal the warmth of my sheets, your eyes fixed in my as if you were looking for a word, maybe a caress able to show my hidden feelings. Luck and misfortune to see you fade when I'm already defeated by sincerity and my hands are ready to feel your skin. What a terrible fate couldn't be able to have you even in my dreams.

Sometimes you come to my dreams and the sweet tone of your voice calls me from the dark night. When I finally decide to follow you, you are taken by the same breeze fading the ecco of my pleas. Desperation invade me when I can't reach you, even feeling you closer that you have ever be, maybe that you'll ever be. Your silouette appears at last between the shadows after seeking you in complete darkness for what seemed hours, but I wake up with the first light of the morning starting to enter through the window.

Sometimes you come to my dreams and I have to suffer a terrible wait to know the taste of your being. But even though I'm caught by your arms, I think when that happens the pain is worse. By giving me entirely to your caress, even suspecting that you are just a fantasy, the waking brings the pain of your absence that increases when I feel in my sheets the smell of your skin, as if you really were here.

Sometimes you come to my dreams and I don't know what's more difficult to bare: that it's you or it's only a dream.

Hipnotizame - Fobia

Gazes, silences

The tickling in the skin started. I don't need to turn to know you are watching me.

I search you in the known faces to find your little eyes, that seem to have secretly wated for this moment. For a few second I'm trapped by your unalterable smile, and I wish that at least this time I'm the reason giving it life. Just a look of distance and we must obey the inexorable coldness of the silent game.

We both turn away. I hope time runs fast and so our eyes could meet again soon.

*****

No. You can't know I'm watching you this way.

It's better when you don't notice me, when you keep observing the world with you terrible gravity and you forget my existence. I rather be invisible that just a child looking at you as stupefied by your eyes which seem to read everything, which could discover all of my secrets. I don't want you to know I feel clumsy when I see you arriving, though sometimes I think you suspect.

Too late, your eyes are fixed on mine. I have to turn.

*****

Here we go again. A new gaze.

Time escapes while I wait for a word to brake the routine, capable of taking the casuality to the clandestine encounters with your eyes. I wish it falls from your mouth to keep the magic, you say it because I'm not allowed.

*****

I hate having to silence what I feel. I hate understand at last that thing about feeling like a teenager when your eyes... oh, no. There they are again. Don't look at me, please, not in front of everyone. Do it when nobody can notice it, not even you.

I want to hear your voice calling my name when only I could hear it.

*****

A bell rings in the distance.

'That's all for today. We'll meet again on monday.'

Everyone start leaving the classroom, except for a girl trying to settle her uniform.

'Is there anything you wish to tell me, Francisca?'

'No, nothing professor. Until monday.'

Another story without an end.

Cancel that thought

I don't know what to do with this, it's driving me insane.
I just can't go on with it, fancying you naked.
It's not that I don't want to, I'm not stopping for the shame.
It's just that I can go out to the street with the lust in my face.
Because I see you in every woman, but you are in none.
It's time to tell my mind to cancel that thought.

Désert - Emilie Simon

Under the moon

The night has just started.

Under the moonlight the crowd continue moving with its routinary rhythm, unable to notice the silent presence of an unusual witness. He preffers it like that, being invisible to the unease gaze of the mass, keeping himself away from the emotions submiting the group in front of his eyes to a life without meaning. No matter what happens he stays quiet, avoiding his breathe to add the agitation provoke by his desires.

His heart hasten. Captive by the exquisite female silhouette that caused the sudden emotion, his gaze is attracted to the center of the impertubable crowd. He decide to approach, moving slowly to avoid attention of those surrounding her. He doesn't want to be seen. He mustn't be seen.

The moon reflects in his anxious eyes. He can feel the adrenaline running through his veins with every step that gets him closer to her. He must have her, he needs to enjoy the touch of her skin while he puts her under the strenght of his instincts. She's young, tempter, her shy eyes call him to take her.

Trapped in the spell of her thin body he makes a mistake. The silence has broken, the crowd is startled by the stranger attacking. She stays put, paralized in front of the powerful gaze moving closer and closer, absorbed by hundreds of emotions she can't control. He's about to reach her.

Before he's eyes there's only her, unable to move and run like the rest. A quick move and all finishes. Between his fangs he imprisons the neck of his victim, feeling the pityful moanings of a life reaching its end. The taste of blood crawls down his throat while she sees life escaping in an stertor.

A howl brakes the silence of the night. The pack has arrived.

He has proved his value once more, he has prove to the everyone he's the alpha male.

Teaspoon

A cigarette lits the night.

Against his wishes, time is once again consumed by the memory of a woman, the woman he can't get off his head, because even though thinking hasn't affect his sleep, he feels uncomfortable facing what she provokes in him. He hasn't felt this way for long, facing the strange pleasure those emotions cause. Knowing that in the dark of his room he can't be seen (she can't see him) he smiled satisfied.

There have been some hours since he was with her, but he can still see her flirty face smiling before saying 'don't miss me too much'. He only smiled back, to see her fade later in the crowd without daring to say he already missed her. The memory has filled his mind with doubts. Maybe he should said it, confessed he misses her sweet face and her coquette eyes, tell her how much he likes to always agree with her, admit her presence cautivate him in a way time had made so unusual. But he didn't, he doesn't know if he will ever tell her.

Doubts kept making him feel even more uncomfortable. He wanders if maybe she hides something behind her words, if her smile hides some secret until this moment undecipherable to him. What should he do the next time he see her? Keep playing the game? Will she keep playing? He wants answers, but he wants them full of sweet mysteries, as it has been since the beginning.

The clouds that covered the night sky are gone. His face is illuminated by the pale moonlight.

Sometimes he'd like to have the emotional range of a teaspoon like the rest of his gender, not to feel so many things...

...but not tonight...

...not with her...

A cigarette dies.

The fight

'It's not going to defeat me... it can't defeat me...'

Beatriz found herself facing again her usual antagonist. She glared at the opponent in silence for a few minutes, absorbed by complex thoughts she couldn't put in order and only made more difficult the arrival of a new battle. She breathed agitated, almost crying in despair for seeing the enemy in front of her, as cold as usual, lacking of emotions. In nights like that she couldn't do more than hate the foe.

The night kept going on, fading with every turn of the clock. She was still captive of the ideas, watching her opponent while lighting a new cigarette though it wouldn't calm the anxiety that invaded her knowing she couldn't do anything. Hours had passed when at last she could threw herself against the enemy to end the torture. She wasn't going to be defeated, she couldn't be defeated.

***

A new day was starting. Beatriz smiled satisfied while rushing to get ready. Minutes later she was leaving her home, and though she was exhausted she couldn't do more that feel joy for having in her hands the last essay of the term.

The whole night she battled against the computer and now she could finally say she was on free.

Claudia

The day has just started, but in my heart I wish it would end soon taking the pain with it. It has been almost a year and it's still difficult walk the corridors of the campus, as if every step is one more note in the endless song that talks me about you. I get down the stairs in direction to the grass, but it's overwhelming find the little black dog that once followed you here sitting over the stone floor, its furr gloomy in your absent. I suspect that just like me, the pour little creature can feel that even if the university keeps working there's something wrong about it, something missing, something more important than classes or exams.

For months I've searched for something that could help me escape from my feelings, leaving behing the anguish that invades me, because in some corner of my withered soul I still believe it's possible to restart life where it was left. In countless ocassions I've sat in the grass to write -in the place where we use to spend hours laughing-, but the constant interruptions haven't let me write more that one or two lines. There have even been days when I just stay there, without touching the paper, just reading the previous work as in it is the key to turn back time, to put things in its right place, to have you back by my side. At last I've managed to finish and correct this words, after burning in pain with thousands of cigarettes.

You well know that this has always been my way to do things, just shut up and carry my wounds in silence until the arrive of the best momento to let them heal. But in my short life I've never felt a sorrow more deep than the one you have left me, and I believe that nothing in the future could be worse. To be honest I don't keep big hopes, specially when I feel that in my head your memory will keep tormenting me. No matter the pain I've felt I've let the images invade me over and over again, so I could tell you this story you know belong to us both, because even though you are not here with me it was written by two.

That november noon had arrived with a strenght that seemed to free us of the terrible weight that the end of the semester had thrown over us. Enough was the fatuity of a clear blue sky and the cool spring breeze to everyone in the yard to fell invaded by a strange joy, as if in the beauty of that day it were possible to find the rest needed in front of the usual troubles of the universitary life. Even the teachers -so many times idolized, so many times hated- showed evident samples of kindness and comprehension so unusual in most of them. The remit was so generalized that nobody felt shocked when one of the youngest professors left the cold seriousness of the classroom to teach in the middle of the yard, sited unshamessly between her students while playing with a flower she found in the grass.

You entered the classroom late as usual. The minute I saw you by the door I felt troubled by feelings I questioned for so long, considering them reprehensible in front of the friendship that in just two years and against all odds we built. You were radiant, as if spring had decided to take your small body to manifest in all its splendour. It was the magic moment that many of us waited, the moment when the simplicity and naturalness of your beauty proved to be immensely superior that the one of our more desired classmates, those with intense blonde hair and bright green or blue eyes, disguised under expensive clothes and with proud presence. You, with your seductive black eyes, your dark, soft skin, your perfect little figure, your long dark hair, you were to everyone's eyes the most fair.

How much I desired to tell you in that instant how captive I felt when I stared at you while you walked the classroom, how stupefied I was when seeing your hair falling free on your back for the first time. More than ever I felt you a woman, I felt you filling all of my being and yet I didn't dare to say a word. A few seconds were enough to show me how clumsy my doubts were and how useless is the voice when facing love, because nothing worried me when in front of anyone -without caring about anything or anyone- you took my hand and gave me the passionate kiss for so long I desired in the darkest of silences.

No voice dared to interrupt us in that instant, a moment so ours and which I hope so much would last forever. I knew we weren't the only ones in the room waiting for that minute to come. Watching your eyes after our kiss was understanding once and for all that there was no point in silence what I felt -and feel- for you, that I could keep lying to myself, lying you. Around us everything was in complete silence, no reproaching looks, no displays of joy, envy or sadness, as if the world had stopped just to contemplate us.

The class continued after a few minutes, but there were in me no desires to pay attention to something more than your hands -holding mine under the table-, your eyes watching me like there were nothing else in that small space, your hair moving swiftly because of the breeze entering through the window. I wanted the time to go faster, I wanted to get out of there, running away with you, kiss you. I wanted to scream that I loved you.

It was a true relief when the professor finished the class, giving us the usual speech about the exams. I took my things back in my pack as fast as I could but you stopped me, got up with no rush and started walking taking firmly my hand. Only now I can understand how much you wanted to spend those instants to be with me, pausing all the instincts both had restrained for so long. When we reached the place where we used to meet every day -and where today I'm finishing to write this words- I could sense the looks and the whispering, coming not only from our classmates but from most of the people there. Feeling you sat by my side as we used to wasn't the same that day, because you were actually with me, becoming part of me. And there we stayed, while the sun followed its path across the city sky, cuddling in complete silence.

When the sky started to darken I left abruptely my lethargy. You got up with no warning, leaving me stupefied and unable to say not even one word that could stop you. When you saw me like that, you bend towards me, kissed me and told me not to worry, fading later behind the door of the women's bathroom. In your absence I though about the time lost, the things I wanted to do because we were finally together, so many things that seemed impossible to do in just one life time. Maybe yo thought the same.

The minutes passed and you weren't back. The moment I heared the screams coming from the bathroom I ran, invaded by a desperated feeling I hoped was far from reality. You don't know how much it hurt when I entered that place. You were laying on the floor, a dozen pills around you, the horrible screams increasing outside.

Tears started to burn my face while I tried to save you. Without even noticing I was inside an ambulance, waiting that you would open your eyes and tell me everything was fine. I was stopped by a door while you were taken into a sad room, and only then I had time to understand what was happening. Your backpack slid through my hands and a book fell from it, a small book covered with pictures of us which I didn't doubt to pick up. I just had to read it to understand everything.

Your parents arrived minutes later, maybe too late. A nurse pointed at me while talking to them -the less I wanted was to face the man that hurt you so much-, but the abrupt arrival of a doctor was more important than anything. His gaze seemed to tell everything, making all the ridiculous tecnicisms those guys use to garnish their speeches really futil.

During the night it started raining. My phone rang all night but there was no use in answering, the words couldn't pass my lips. My heart was too heavy, so it wasn't long before I fell from pain, anger, desperation. You left me in a fair spring day, so fair it started crying the minute you were gone.

I saw many people in your funeral, people that you didn't met and were there only for obligation, girls that suffered of envy in front of you and were falling in tears as fake as their beauty. However, the presence I hated the most was your father's. When the ceremony ended I walked to him with no doubts nor fear to let go all of the pain you had left me, blaming him for your death. When I stopped yelling he walked away, not a tear in his face, but al least everyone knew the truth about your departure.

It has been almost a year and still your pictures are on the display we built together, but nobody speaks about you. Every time someone pass by it I feel gazes over me, as if looking for answers, and to tell you the truth there are no questions to be make. Sometimes I cry when I remember you, though I know you preffer that I remember only the good things we did together. I miss you and often I don't know how I'll go on without you, but in the darkest times you come to me, smiling while you help me get up.

Later today I'll go to leave you this letter and those flowers you like so much. I promise not to cry.

The source of madness

Friday, 16:25 ... a scream crawls trough the house...

'I'm tired of you. You are the failure of this family.'

Friday, 16:32 ... the same voice speaks to the same hearer...

'Son, would you like a tea?'

Friday, 21:15 ... some news anchor man on some channel...

'We regret to inform of a tragedy lived a few hours ago in the suburbs. According to the information given by the police, a young man killed his mother and commited suicide minutes later. The neighbours did nothing when they heared the young man's screams, being a man who heared from the street the one that called the police. The victims were identify as...'

Red heels

'What's wrong, Cote?' Pablo ask me with his accustomed smile. 'You seem paler than usual.'

I don't know how to answer that. Our weekly lunch uses to be a moment of distraction in the middle of the routine, but this time I'll break the laughter with something he'll find annoying. Pablo has always been there to take care of me, he was the first questioning my decision to leave the folks place to live on my own. After all this years of friendship I must be honest with him, I trust he'll hear and understand me.

'Teddy bear,' I say with a serious tone, 'something happened to me last night.'

'Where did you go, lusty girl?' he replies roguishly. 'Please, you can save the details for yourself.'

'No, it's not that... I need you to hear me in complete calm...'

'Did someone hurt you?' he interrumps worried. I've always envy the honesty of his face, capable to let you know when it's best to get off his way. 'Maria Jose, answer me!'

'Pablo, cool down and listen.'

I knew this wasn't going to be easy. I ben over the table and blow his nose, a gesture able to confuse him since we were kids and gives me enough time to order my ideas. After having a sip of water I can start telling him, waiting that the nerves won't take me while I do it.

'Pablo, last night something happen... but I want you to understand that it's over. Now I want you to stay sit and hear me while I tell you because I need your sympathy, not your heroism.' That's the word that drives him mad, but even though he tries the words can't escape from his mouth.

'Yesterday I had to work late, because I was on a deadline and my work was on risk. Only near midnight I was leaving the parking lot of the building to drive home, and I was so tired that when I got there I didn't even look back to see if the gate was closed.' While I tell him the story I relize that I made a mistake. 'I got off the car and walk without thinking to the elevator, hoping that it would be in the first floor to get as soon as possible to fall over the bed.

'I know yo have had days when the time you spend in the bloody elevator seems to last forever. Not even the satisfaction of finishing the work and it wasn't lame could rose my mood, so I started playing with the keys to relax,' I tell him, repiting the gesture of the previous evening with a fork. 'I didn't even want to look around me when I entered the apartment, because I left in a hurry in the morning so it was messy. I went straight to the bathroom in my room to throw my face under the sink.

'Without thinking I would have to order today I threw my clothes beside the bed, put the pjs and fell between the sheets hoping I would fell asleep a.s.a.p. It must had passed near an hour when I woke up because of a noise, and though my body kept telling me I shall go back to sleep I got up to watch from the door.' I take a breathe before going ahead with the story. 'I closed the door again trying not to make any noise. There was a man inside the apartment, searching the other rooms. My only reaction was to lock the door and walk away from it... there wasn't any way to let the doorman know what was happening nor calling anyone, because the phone is by the main door.

'I couldn't stay stupefied forever, so I walk to the balcony to see if I could ask for help, but there's not much traffic at that hour on my street.' I start crying when I remember the desperation of last night. 'Teddy bear, I couldn't call you to go help me. Finally I search in my room's floor for a way to let the nightwatch of the building I was in trouble, because my balcony is only a few floors over the main entrance. The first thing I found were my shoes, I left them beside the bed when I got to my room. I threw one of them hoping mr. Richards would be in the door, but nothing happened.

'I wait a few seconds and threw the second one. This time I was more lucky, because mr. Richards got up to see why there were raining shoes. The minute he saw me I started to make some gestures to let him know what was going on, but even when I saw him running towards the building I didn't feel safe until a police car parked on the sidewalk and three cops got off it.

'I had no recolection of the time. I only heard the voice of mr. Richards behind my bedroom's door, but I didn't get up until two police men took a boy to the car. When I opened the door the other cop was waiting, talking very fast about "procedures", "testify", "caught in the act". Luckily mr. Richards was with him to calm me down.

'After they left I closed the door the best I could. Mr. Richards told me he would send someone to fix it first thing in the morning, because the kid forced it to enter. I couldn't go back to sleep, I didn't want to call anyone and worry them and filled my house with questions I couldn't answer.'

I stare at Pablo, waiting for a word of support. However, he remains in silence, with a expression on his face that prepares me to an "I told you so". While he makes some gestures to the waiter to ask for the check -without even looking at me- the words come back to his mouth.

'Cote, I don't want you to argue this,' he says in a casual tone. 'You are coming to my apartment tonight.'

'But...'

'But nothing. I'll pick you up when the minute I leave the office. I'll take one of the trucks of work to take all of your things, because you're coming to live with me.'

So, without any more words he goes giving a cold goodbye kiss.

No Montagues nor Capulets

'Magda... can you tell me why are we doing this?'

I wasn't the first time Alejandro wandered that, but it was the first time he dared to tell her. Magdalena looked at him for an instant stupefied, but she avoided the doubts he was presenting her. Without thinking deeply she seeked again the warmth lips of Alejandro.

With his mind full of uncertainty given the espontaneous encounter, Alejandro left home in a rush. Only when he was already on the bus he took some time to arrange, but the sunlight made him a little difficult to find his reflection on the vehicle's windows. Almost an hour later he lit a cigarette while waiting Magdalena.

Night had extended its dark, so the arrival of the girl was illuminated by artificial light. Alejandro could recognize without mistakes the generous body, the flirty walk and the long, curly hair of the young woman. There weren't any demostrations of tenderness in their greet, what relief both of the uncomfortable memories of previous meetings.

'Wanna have a drink?' offered Magdalena smiling. 'I know a place just a few blocks away.'

'Yeah, sure. Let's go.'

Worried with little details that could be totally absent in this encounter, Alejandro hadn't thought about what they were going to do, so he was grateful Magdalena had planned something. While they were walking he saw their reflection on a window, noticing that they were proyecting a weird aura; however, he forgot about it a few steps later.

The moment they got to the bar they ordered their usual drinks -margarita for her, mojito for him-, passing later to a cheerful talk about the band playing. This helped them to forget the remaining fears, unease and uncertainty left the table giving space to a calmed evening.

After some appetizers and a second round of drinks, Alejandro and Magdalena divided the check, left the bar and walked through a crowded boulevard. They talked about the oncoming autumm, the dark tones of the sky, the traffic at that hour, everything but the sensation dwelling in them.

When they reached a bus stop, Alejandro leaned on it -exhausted for a difficult week- and Magdalena seeked in her friend a refuge to the cold breeze starting to blow. The face of the girl caught Alejandro's attention and it wasn't just its softness, there was something else, something in her skin inflicting a powerful attraction over him.

Suddenly they started kissing. The doubts got back the instant their lips touched, unleashing their adrenaline, because there was something forbidden in their acts that excited them even more. Only Alejandro's question was able to stop them.

'I'm serious, Magda,' said the young man walking away from her. 'Always this game.'

'Why can't you just enjoy this while it happens, Ale?'

'Because I cannot stand that you deny it later, Magdalena.'

Alejandro's face took a gravity too distant from the moment they were sharing. Magdalena was uncapable to react to the man's attitude, so she just turn around and started walking away, leaving behind Alejandro, his kisses, his tenderness, his questions.

Encounters

'No, not yet.'

Claudio knew his friend was talking about the moment to get off the bus, but there was something in Catalina's big blue eyes, in her way to comb constantly her hazel curls, in the reasons why they were ending the trip taking hands, their lips only inches away, testing the limits of their friendship. That evening was the first time they saw each other just as they were, man and woman, leaving behind the veil of the unexplored feelings.

Given the moment, he offer Catalina his hand to help her got off the white and green machine, but she didn't let go when they started walking, nor was in her a gesture to give away the warmth in her friend hand. She just stared at him, caught in his brown eyes and his pale skin, which seem unalterable in contact with sunlight. A gust of wind disheveled the hair of both, but this time she didn't rush to comb hers, stupefied by the gentle face of Claudio.

Night found them in front of Catalina's home. Still taking hands they gaze at each other, charmed by the feelings they were experimenting. They both felt the need to let go, to surrender to the passion that started boiling under their skin; however, they were petrified. They weren't even capable to pronounce any word, captive by the fear of being wrong and risking the lost of years of friendship for a moment of untamed lust.

The sound of a distant alarm took them out of their troubled lethargy. Fearful by the situation they let go each other's hand, nervous and restraint by feeling so close to change their relationship forever. In the rush of the farewell, Claudio and Catalina started the ritual of the hug and the kiss, but they also touch the sides of each other's lips, making them felt more ashamed. When Catalina entered the house, her friend couldn't stop thinking about what happened and finally walked away whispering something almost inaudible.

'No, not yet.'

The Dance of the Centaurs

'We are too much alike.'

Without reasons I find myself confessing to the cup of coffee waiting over the table that which have been tormenting my dreams for months. It is obvious that from its silence, vaporous, aromatic presence no words will come to comfort my troubled mind, so it is better to just drink the coffee and not saying anything while I enjoy my breakfast. I am aware of the ephemeral character of this pleasure, of any pleasure. My bed is empty again... after a night of rampant passion your body is no more than a memory.

White roses

Antonia couldn't stop crying. The instant she felt the warmth in her sister hug it was impossible for her to restrain much longer the sorrow, the pain, the anger that had consumed her in crude silence for months. She had deprived that longer to express her emotions so her little daughter wouldn't discover the anguish surrounding her innocent world. However, her sister was straight and clear by showing her the truth.

'You're daughter knows what's going on since it started... haven't you notice her attitude change?'

The words of Daniela left her speechless. Surely Antonia knew of the changes in her daughter Claudia, but it was something she refused to accept, just like she refused to admit Tomas was cheating on her after five years of marriage. Her little brown eyes only opened to reality when it was impossible denying it.

'You were right about him,' cried Antonia. 'You were always right and I was too stubborn to see it.'

'Sis, don't think about that now. You can't change that, but you can move forward.''I don't know what to do...'

The creak of the door interrupted her. Claudia -her daughter- entered the room, carrying in her tiny hands her mother's cell phone, who rushed to dry her tears to prevent being seen crying by the girl. To gave her some time, Daniela took her niece in her arms while the phone kept ringing melodiously. One gaze to the screen was enough to Daniela to smile, something inexplicable to Antonia.

'You should answer that call, sister.'

'Mommy, answer the cell phone,' said the girl with an unusual loquacity for a three years old.

'Answer it, quick. It won't ring forever.'

Antonia rushed to leave the room so she could talk more quietly, but only after she kissed her daughter and look at her sister's eyes to find out why she still had a smile in her face. She answered the call while walking across the corridor and her face changed completely when she heared the voice talking softly through the phone, making her experiment a variety of emotions she had not felt in a long time.

For several minutes she walked in circles on the small balcony, alternating between crying and laughter. For so long she hadn't felt so comfortable talking to someone, not even her older sister. After hanging up the phone she took a moment to smile one more time, still surprised for what happened and thinking about the day she'd meet the man on the other side of the phone. Daniela was expecting her when she entered the room again.

'Something to tell me, sis?'

'You planned this, Daniela,' said Antonia still smiling.

'As much as planning, no... but I had something to do with it...'

Antonia sat to play with her child. It had been long since the last time she had done it, so first she felt like a strange; nevertheless, the love expressed by her daughter was enough reason to stay with her instead of walking away in silence as it had been usual, taking with her all the sorrow in a futil attemp to not hurt the child.

A lonely tear fell across her pale, freckled face, but there wasn't on her signs of the terrible pain that had invaded her hours before. Her eyes found her daughter's, so alike her own, so bright as hers when she met the man who had called. It was then that she began wandering about her daughter's feelings when facing the things happening, how would she feel if it comes a time to see her mother with a man who wasn't Tomas, her father. She didn't want her daughter blaming her for the divorce, because though Tomas was the one responsible for it, she was the one suffering the doubts. The joy that made her smile seemed to fade.

'Mom? What's wrong?'

'I was about to ask the same,' added Daniela, who entered the room carrying a tray with milk and cookies. 'Antonia, you are not having second thoughts, right?'

'I don't know... I don't know what to think...'

Without noticing it Antonia got up to help her sister. Her mind was still trapped in the countless questions that dating someone after her divorce created. After all, there had been years since the last time she went out with other man than Tomas and it was precisely with the man she would meet in less than a week. His memory had remained all those years, because she evoked his love or because Daniela never doubted in remembering him when she wanted to show Antonia that there were much better options that Tomas' cold attitude with her little sister.

'Alonso,' she whispered while falling asleep. 'See you soon, Alonso.'

*******

'Daniela Andrade, it is always a pleasure when you come by. How have you been?'

'A little worried,' said the young woman while lighting a cigarette. 'And I haven't been able to smoke peacefully for weeks.'

'What's on your mind, my friend?' asked him, trying to keep a casual tone.

'Alonso,' replied a more grave Daniela, 'I must be honest with you. I've come to talk about Antonia.'

The only mention of his friend's sister brought a lot of memories to Alonso's mind. Even though he met Daniela once or twice a month, Antonia's life hadn't been part of their usual conversations since the news of her marriage with Tomas. The fact that after five years she talked again of her sister was -at least- unexpected and unusual, so the face of the young man took a severe aspect unseen in him. After preparing some coffee, his green eyes met his friend gaze in search for answers.

'Daniela... you know I'm very fond of you,' he said breaking a long silence. 'We know each other for almost twenty years and there haven't been secrets between us. But it's very peculiar that you mention your sister after all this years...'

'Alonso,' interrupted the young woman, 'you have to hear me, it's very important.'

'If you just let me finished,' he replied with calm. 'I know you wouldn't talk to me about her unless it would be affecting you too much and because of that, because I'm your friend, I'm willing to hear you.'

'I'm really grateful...'

'Though,' added Alonso, 'these doesn't mean I'm making any promises.'

Daniela drank a sip of her coffee before she began telling Alonso what happened with her sister's marriage, making clear from the beginning than neither she nor her mother hid their opposition to the relation of Antonia and Tomas. Even at the hospital and days before she died, her mother -Daniela related- didn't stop reminding the youngest sister than she could had married a very different man, a man that would trat her as an equal, a man with education, a man like Alonso.

The young man listen carefuly the words of his friend, making useless attempts to control his emotions over the details smartly picked by Daniela: the opposition to the marriage, the death of her mother, Tomas cheating on Antonia. When she finished there was a new pause only interrupted by the swift sound of the cups when put over a plate after every sip of coffee. Finally, Alonso decided to continue the conversation.

'Tell me, Dani, what do you have in mind?'

'Alonso, you can try but you can lie to me,' answered the woman with unusual arrogance. 'I'm your best friend and I know you still have feelings for my sister. That's why we haven't talk about her for five years, it's because of her that you write stories of unrequited love in your free time, it was because of her that you called me before visiting my mother in the hospital and you missed her funeral.'

'Daniela... I...'

'My dear friend,' she replied taking his hand, 'I understand and so would my mother. Besides, Antonia and me know you are the one responsible for the white roses we find every week on my mother's grave... and that's so much more that Tomas ever did.'

'You still haven't told me what is that you want from me, Daniela.' Alonso's voice reflected a deep emotion. 'Even though you're right, things are different now. She...'

'She's not married anymore,' interrupted the woman again. 'And I also know she have strong feelings for you.'

Once more silence fell between them. After lighting the cigarette she had been playing with for a while, Daniela fixed her gaze on Alonso's eyes, studying his every move. When he rose his face she kept talking.

'Alonso, all I want you to do is let your feelings flow. Since the first time I saw you two together I knew you were perfect for my sister and she...'

'And the girl, Daniela!?' he asked rising his voice. 'What do you think she's going to think, to feel about this!?'

'The worry you show for my niece is enough for me,' answered the woman in complete calm. 'Besides, I have to acknowledge sometimes she seem loke your daughter, though I know she isn't.'

'I'm sorry, but I don't understand.'

'Claudia not only has features and gestures like yours, her personality also reminds us of you,' said Daniela smiling. 'She's so curious, she wants to know everything. She's even learning to read... at three!'

'Yeah, she reminds me of someone...'

'That kind of brains doen't come from the father's side of the family, I assure you... and with time she'll understand, because she'll see her mother happy.'

'There's no point in keep arguing with you,' said Alonso giving up. 'Give me Antonia's phone number...'

They kept talking until nightfall. After the last coffee Alonso walked Daniela to her car, without knowing what to say or what to expect from the phone call he promised to make the next day. He hadn't spoken with Antonia for seven years and hadn't seen her in even more time, though she was still in his head and -no mattered the efforts- in his heart. While the elevator reached his floor he somehow regreted his promise, but the desire to meet her and knowing that she hadn't forgot him were stronger.

Back in his apartment he cleaned up first, and then he seeked in one of his many books refugee from the new troubles threatening his thoughts. However, his gaze was trapped for a moment in the same page while in his mind crawled the memories of the love he and Antonia shared. Finally he got asleep sat in his favorite chair, with the heavy book still in his hands and the image of a frail woman taking care of his dreams.

*******

The days that followed Alonso's call were tagged by an emotion Antonia hadn't felt for years. Every now and then her sister let out some advice, driving away any doubts that could appear and even taking the phone from here a couple of times she wanted to call Alonso and cancel the date. With all those things in mind she chose to pass the week preparing herself, do her hair -something she hadn't done in years- and cheking her clothes in search for the perfect oufit.

The feeling inside her also invaded every corner of her sister's house, something even Claudia felt. The little girl had regained her usual happiness and searched at every moment the company of her mother, which didn't happen since they went to live in her aunt's apartment. The curious questions of her inquisitive nature pointed now to the reason of her mother's deep mood change.

Friday arrived unusually soon. The fear in the proximity of the date hit with strenght on Antonia, who could barely concentrate on her work, her mind dancing between the memory of a love she thought lost seven years before, the expectation of loving again after the failure of her marriage and the questions her daughter could make. Conscious this could happen, Daniela left work early to meet her sister (and her niece) and help her getting ready, even forcing her to try some sexy clothes Antonia hadn't use since before the pregnancy.

'Antonia, please, you have to show yourself,' said Daniela clearly annoyed. 'What's the point in hiding something Alonso already knows?'

'Well, if that's the point maybe I should go out naked,' answered her sister somehow ashamed. 'If I use this clothes he'll think I'm desperated.'

'We are talking about Alonso... he won't think that. So you better show some skin and put on my black jeans.'

'Dani, I really prefer to wear a long skirt,' insisted Antonia. 'I don't want to show my hips.'

'You and your prudence. But you won't feel very comfortable with a skirt,' replied Daniela. 'Alonso drives a motorcycle.'

An hour and a half later Antonia entered Claudia's room to say good night. Daniela throw herself over one of the chairs, tired after running from one room to another to help her sister and take care of her niece. However, with the laughter of the girl she couldn't fell asleep, so she got up and went to her room.

'Mommy, you look pretty,' said the girl.

'You are absolutely right, Claudia,' added Daniela standing by the door. 'It has been long since your mother hasn't look so pretty.'

'Thank you, my little angel,' answered Antonia hugging her daughter. 'Thanks, Dani... for all your help and for taking care of my baby.'

'He's also going to think you look good,' whispered her sister. 'You don't need to behave, OK?'

'Let's get a glass of milk and then you'll go to sleep,' said Antonia taking the girl's hand and still flushed by Daniela's words.

While they walked to the kitchen the doorbell rang. Antonia stood paralized a few feet from the door, unable to move for the excitement of knowing that behind the main door was the first -and she thought maybe the only- mand she loved. Her daughter began to pull her hand, but she didn't reacted. When Daniela was about to open the door, her little sister ran to hide in the kitchen.

'Alonso, good evening,' greeted Daniela with exaggerated parsimony. 'Come on in, Antonia is about to take Claudia to bed.'

*******

Alonso was even more agitated than usual. He felt trapped between the deadline given by his editor and the uncertainty of that night's encounter, the meeting with a lost love and -according to Daniela- the possibilities to recover it. Under any other circunstances he wouldn't doubt in asking the wise advices of his best friend, but this time it was clear that he wouldn't be able to find in her the distance he needed. Knowing he had to face it alone only increased the anguish he had felt the whole week.

The day was passing too fast. Some minutes before seven the young man entered the office of his editor with the promised work, completely exhausted and thinking about calling Antonia to change the plans. But he couldn't do that to her, he couldn't disappoint her even more that she was after what she suffered with her exhusband. Caught by this problems he didn't even notice when the editor served him some coffee and invited him to sit.

'Alonso? Alonso!'

'I'm sorry, Josefina,' he answered while returning to his senses. 'I've been kind of distracted.'

'I have realized that, Alonso,' said the woman worried. 'You had never finished a work over the deadline. I'm surprised.'

'I'm so sorry. I have some worries outside the office.'

'Is there something you want to tell me?' asked her while giving him a candy. 'You know you can trust me.'

'Well... actually...' Alonso wandered if it was prudent to tell his boss but given the absence of Daniela, Josefina was a very plausible option. 'Tonight I'm going out with a girl I was... maybe I still am... in love with.'

'But that shouldn't be some much problem, Alonso,' she replied really worried. 'Instead you should be happy of meeting her.'

'I know, I am... but... she divorced recently,' added her with emotion. 'And she have a daughter. That's been distracting me.'

Josefina's gaze had changed completely. Many times she had wandered why her star journalist seemed so distant from every woman that apeared at the magazine to pick him up. Finding feelings that she thought non-existent in him surprised her. For a minute or so she didn't know what to answer to the man in front of her, almost crying in search for an advice, but she remembered words she had listened once and again before her wedding with an older man.

'Alonso, tell me... do you love her?'

'Yes. Even after all this years I have to say yes.'

'What about her? Do you know what she feels for you?' asked the woman.

'Daniela... her sister... tells me that she haven't forgot me neither'

'Then nothing else must worry you,' said Josefina with all the tender possible. 'Now finish your coffee and take another candy. Then you go home and prepare yourself to show her all the feelings you have hid from her.'

Shocked by his editor's reaction, Alonso obeyed every single one of her words. The moment he put the cup back in the kitchen he walked to his desk to put the notebook, some documents and a camera on his backpack. Instants later he was leaving the magazine with his headphones on, listening to the music Daniela had sent him some days before to help him relax and wishing he wouldn't have troubles in the few blocks he had to walk to get to his aparment.

The city streets were replete with vehicles, thousands of people inside them trying to get to their homes as soon as possible. Some were desperated to get on an already crowded bus, so Alonso was grateful to live near his job. Barely fifteen minutes later he was greeting the doorman of his building and entering a wide elevator with clean mirrors. His reflection was gazing at him worried, but he was sure that after a shower he would feel better.

A few minutes before nine he was leaving his home. Traffic was still messy, but it wasn't difficult to avoid it on his bike and he was sure he could get on time without problems. Surely the driving distracted his mind from the thoughts of his decision, at least in the most crowded streets. However, a few blocks away from his friend's apartment he felt troubled by the questions.

'Daniela, why did you make me do this?' he whispered while turning the engine off.

He arrived ten minutes early, enough time to check the final details of his encounter. As Daniela lived on the third floor he felt like taking the stairs, so he would have more time to think in the most suitable words to use when in front of Antonia again.

As he was so focused on the elaboration of a speech, he couldn't realize that he was already ringing the bell of the apartment. The door opened seconds later and he was caught with no perfect words, no exaggerated details, nothing really romantic for the evening except for his nervous presence and the feelings blosoming once more, just like the autumm afternoon when he finally decided to ask Antonia on a date after months of planning.

'Alonso, good evening,' said Daniela opening the door. 'Come on in, Antonia is about to take Claudia to bed.'

*******

Inside the kitchen Antonia was serving milk to her daughter with an unusual clumsiness. Claudia just watching curiously, surprised that the cup wasn't already in her hands and wandering why her mother was acting so weird. When finally the milk was inside the cup instead than over the kitchen's table, Antonia served it to the girl. Then she breathed deeply and take the todler hand. Hearing Alonso's voice so close -he was talking with Daniela- made her feel even more nervous.

When she finally decided to leave the kitchen, she felt the emerald gaze of Alonso fixed on her as there where no other women in the world, totally hipnotized with her presence. Neither one of them could find words, so the laughter that invaded the place minutes early where gone. Given the surprising silence, Claudia decided to intervene with the most unusual comment.

'You are the mister of the white roses.'

'What did you say, Claudia?' asked her aunt.

'He gave white roses to grandmom before she left,' said the girl.

'And you remember that, Claudia?' insisted Daniela.

'Yes, aunt Dani.'

The girl had been present in one of the many ocassions Alonso visited her grandmother. Worried about the health of the woman, he hadn't noticed the presence of the kid and Daniela had no memories of the moment when it happened. But Claudia did remembered, showing the wit her aunt had spoken about to Alonso the day she visited him in his apartment.

Alonso smiled. He stared at the girl for an instant and then he looked at Antonia again, though she was still gazing at her daughter in shocked. All the doubts she had felt seemed to fade when she saw Claudia and Alonso watching at each other with admiration, she remembering how good he was with her grandmother, he feeling captive with her perspicacity.

'That's right, Claudia,' confessed Alonso bending down to the girl. 'I loved your grandmother very much. I must say I'm surprised with your memory.'

'Claudia,' said Antonia breaking her long silence, 'this is Alonso. He's a friend of your aunt Daniela and he has been leaving the beautiful flowers on the grave of grandmom Andrea.'

'It's for him that you are happy and you dressed nice?' asked the girl leaving everyone shocked once more.

Alonso got up and looked directly at Antonia's eyes. That detail was the last thing he needed to know it wasn't a mistake, and he was sure that the shine in the woman's brown eyes was a reflection of the same emotion he was feeling. Without a thought about the time that had passed, he rose his hand to caress the face of whom had been his girl long ago. Antonia did nothing to stop him.

Claudia finished her milk, left the cup over the table and ran to sit beside her aunt. Daniela was watching the scene speechless, somehow relief at a scene less complicated that she had hoped. When the girl seeked her aunt's lap she regained her senses.

'Mmmm... Antonia, I'll take the girl to bed.'

'What? Oh? Yeah, sure... I'll see you tomorrow, my angel. I leave you with your aunt.'

'Night, mommy,' said the girl. 'Night, Alonso.'

'Good night, Claudia,' he replied. 'It was a peasure to meet you. I hope you sleep well.'

'Bye, kids,' added Daniela taking the girl in her arms. 'Take good care of my little sis, Alonso.'

Daniela faded in the corridor. Antonia and Alonso caught Claudia moving merrily her hand to say goodbye, then looked at each other and left the apartment taking hands. They didn't say a word as they left, they had no need. They never needed that.

Free (anti-Oedipus)

'Time of dead... 17:23.'

The doctor quickly leaves, throwing the bloody gloves to the ground. One of the nurses picks them up and throws them to the dumpster -just a few feet away-, the other covers the body of the woman laying over the e.r. table. Just some hours before she had arrived to the hospital by her own means, but with a terrible chest pain.

Hundreds of miles away her son throws a picture of both to the ocean and lights a cigarette. His hand is covered in blood, but he shows no pain nor visible wounds. In his face a smile is drawn while a whisper escapes.

'Finally it's over.'

Confession

(A whisper in your ear)

When you dress like that, how would you like me not to think you are adorable?

(A kiss in your neck)

Secrets (the night)

Invisible to everyone's eyes the go in silence, separated for a few instants to avoid waking suspicions, the weariness as a perfect excuse to walk in lascivious complicity toward one of the house's rooms. Behind them the party goes on, but for them it has been enough alcohol and revelry, enough of the anxious looks in front of distracted diners and sensual rubs in the dark corners of the house.

With absolute reservedness -in case they've been followed for someone too curious- they prepare to take the exaggerated role of friends just looking for a place to sleep. They have played this game long enough to leave some detail to luck, especially in an ocassion like that, when a dozen people replete the house.

As usual, she's the first to undress and seek warmth between the sheets (this time unkown and still cold) while his gaze is fixed at the door to avoid seeing her. With a relax tone she let her accompanist -partner, lover- that is his turn to start the parsimonious ritual of getting naked, lock the door of the room and turn off the lights to finally take his side of the bed.

Both shake after an involuntary contact of their naked bodies, but no matter the lust invading them, they know they must still wait a few minutes until being sure that they won't be surprised by the rush entrance of one of their friends. When they feel nothing will happen, they turn to find their gazes full of desire, meeting in a subtle kiss, almost innocent, accompanied by soft caresses drawn in their necks and backs.

Noises on the stairs, laughter in the corridor, the door opens. The bodies between the sheets have turned their backs to each other, both occupiers seem to sleep deeply, but they only wait for the people on the door to go away. They don't need to open their eyes to recognize them, the voices soon invade the silent room.

'It's taken,' says Antoinette roguishly. 'Let's go to the big room.'

'I can't believe they're sleeping. That's so lame,' adds Sebastian.

The door closes, the laughter goes until silence appears again, a silhouette walks across the room. He opens his eyes to discover the nudity of the concupiscence, generous, exuberant figure of his partner coming sensually to him. With the moon as their only witness, they surrender to their secret passion, to the lascivious need of moving through their bodies as they don't know them, as if it is the first time they play the game of their instincts. That seemed to be the mysterious ingredient prolonging their "relationship".

Morning finds them cuddling. They rush to avoid being caught in their nudity by the sun and go down stairs looking for someone who can open the main door, so they can go forbearing any questioning about what happened during their disappearance. Antoinette and Sebastian flirt in the kitchen while making breakfast, laughing at the snores coming from the dining room. It take some minutes to the girl to take distance from Sebastian, after which she walks to the main door and to depart her friends.

'Thanks for everything, Antoinette.'

'Take care... and say goodbye to the sleepers for us.'

'Au revoir, kids,' answers Antoinette.

They walk in silence, go on the bus in silence, keep the silence during the trip. Only when he's getting ready to go off the bus their gazes meet again, wishing each other good luck during the week to come. For an instant they take hands, look at each other and their faces get close in search of a kiss; however, they come back to their senses and discover is not the moonlight over them, they're not alone, there's no risk of being susprised and questioned.

'See you, Jones,' she says.

'Have a pleasent trip, Green,' answers him smiling.

He goes off the bus, she continues the trip.

'Until next time,' both whisper. 'Goodbye, my love.'

The beast crying

Restless, Paul stopped to see his "master piece". Under his right foot he was keeping restrain the frail neck of Andrew, staying as tall as he was to enjoy even more the humilliated face of the young man laying in the ground. Andrew's smile, once haughty, was replaced by undecipherable pleading screams. While reason returned to Paul's mind, he could saw the messy blonde hair of Danielle moving trough the unkown crowd, as if she was waiting to judge his acts.

In more than just a few ocassions, the young man of pale face and long black hair felt rage invading him in front Andrew's doings. However, Danielle's voice was always there to remind him that it was worthless, no matter how many punches he'll throw there won't be a relief for his offended soul.

The tenderness of the childlike face of the girl gave Paul the confort needed to endure the constant humilliations from Andrew's wicked tongue - the same that was now moving senseless in his mouth when so close to the ground. Watching Danielle consumed by sadness because of the actions of that man he hated so much made Paul questioning everything she taught him, leaving him without strength to face the anger. He felt deceived watching the girl's tears and how they had more value that his violent desires.

While Danielle faded under the untamed sorrow, Paul let his hate took him to Andrew's perverse smile. This time there was nothing restraining his desire of ending the taunts of whom had became his nemesis, because the only voice able to control his rage was silenced by crying.

Just one push was enough to throw Andrew to the ground, falling on his face over the black floor, under the laughter of some and the reproaches of others. A few hands hurried to contain the agressor; however, Paul was dauntless while expecting the answer of the man standing up, expecting for a reason to attack him.

The clumsy mockery that fell from Andrew's mouth was as inconsistent as the weak stroke he threw at Paul, unable even to move him. While a new punch was about to hit Paul, who had started laughing, Danielle walked to him asking for him to be released and then she searched his gaze. The emerald eyes of the girl had lost their usual tenderness, invaded by the cautivating mix of anger and vengeance.

A new punch hit Paul's chest, distracting his gaze and unleashing his rage. Seconds later Andrew was falling to the ground again, this time with the face covered in blood and weeping in pain, but Paul wasn't satisfied so he kicked the young man while he was dull over the floor. In front of the mute witnesses around them, Paul placed his boot over Andrew's neck, laughing wildly at the blood while he lit a cigarette.

Danielle softly hugged Paul, sliding her small hands over his tense arms. The sad tone had left her voice when she whispered to Paul 'We can go now' and took his arm to walk to the stairs toward the exit.

They were only a few steps away when Andrew's voice sounded behind them, lacking the usual confidence. 'What a pityful couple. You are really made for each other,' he said standing up with difficulty while wiping his tears and some of the blood on his face. Laughter invaded the place when Andrew fell for the third time, because this time the hit came from the delicate hands of Danielle.

When they were walking away taking hands, the blonde hair of Danielle fell to rest over Paul's shoulder. Not only one demon was defeated, for the beast that again cried and bled on the floor was accompanied by the angry monster that dwelled for so much time inside Paul's soul.

For Danielle and Paul there were not going to be anymore humilliations nor hate. Finally they could love each other.

The perfect sunset

Day is coming to an end, fading in a silent and swift evening. The sun has made an spectacular entrance -after being absent most of the day- and now begins to disappear in the horizon, but for the first time it is not my intention to see the end of his travel trough the city sky (at least not directly), because in front of my eyes there's an even greatest beauty.

Our gazes meet in what seems an eternity, and for an instant I wander if I should break that intense feeling with words; however, my sincerity usually donesn't wait and today is not an exception. While the waves keep crashing against the beach in their infinite routine, words fall from my mouth.

'I doubted you'd come,' I confess, without taking my eyes from yours. 'Your gaze, your smile, your company make all the deceptions go. You have brought me much joy.'

Your gaze timidly distance away from mine to watch the sunset.

There's the moment I expected, the image I expected. Your cheeks have taken the same red tone of the clouds when touched by the last of the daylight. In your eyes, the reflexion of the sunset gives a mistery aura to the scene I desire to watch every time my feet touch the streets of Valparaiso. The instant the sun leaves the sky, a soft drizzle starts so after kissing I invite you for a walk.

It is the perfect sunset.

Dawn

Cold had invaded every staple of my body and yet I couldn't think of any other place where to go at the minute. I slipped trough the wet grass while walking away of those who slept expecting the beginning of a new day -'lucky them' I thought for an instant- and hiding my hands inside the pockets of my sweater in a vain attempt to protect them from the cool breeze coming up from the lake's shore, passing across the willows.

My walk over the pier was quick, swift, silent, like the light drawing over the mountains that announced the imminent arrive of the sun. When I reached the end of the jetty, I sat and closed my eyes to sense the movement of the water, the fishes reacting to the warmth of the oncoming morning. Around me I could breathe peace and not even the sun -now reflexing over the lake- seemed capable to brake that state.

It was in that instant that truth hit me so hard that made me cry. As I thought in the previous evening, in the party and the path that carried me to sit beside the water, I realized how alone I was. It wasn't peace what I breathed, but loneliness and tears.

I was thinking about her...

...and again she wasn't there.