Starbucks Part 2 (English Narrative)

Relacionado con las series de Starbucks. Las puedes encontrar en este link.

For the following days she couldn't get that man off her mind. She imagined how he would respond to different things. She asked him questions and answered them for him. She fancied the idea of having this man in her life be a new special somebody. But she struggled with bringing it all to reality. She couldn't deal with this amazing feeling. She had to, in some way, quiet it down, tone it down. But she made his whole personality up from then on, expecting to be dissapointed the next time she saw him. Expecting him to be a product of her imagination, and then being relieved, that she wouldn't have to go through falling in love. She was terrified of it. She knew she had no limits after then, but now she had the power of witholding it all.

He thought of her, plenty. Laughed at the things that had amused him about her personality. He thought of how secured she was, but how carelessly she let her vulnerabilty be displayed right in front of his eyes. It was to him, like discovering a diamond that had been shining right under people's noses and they never noticed it. He wanted to be the man that would sweep her off her feet. In fact, he was almost sure that he would be that man. And he was confident in that fact. So confident that he had the audacity to not show up the following Sunday.

She waited, anxious. Waited. Waited a bit longer. He never showed. She was dissapointed, but then she was happy. She thought that he was not worth her time, not even as a friend. She was glad of this disappointment. All her life she expected people to fail to their commitments. She was fearless. Expected nothing. Received nothing. She sheltered herself on her own ideas and beliefs. From time to time someone would impress her. But it wouldn't last long, and it was like another ball in the basket. She would score again. Say to herself: 'no one can be trusted'. However, the following Sunday, she showed up again, lying to herself. She did in fact have more important things to do. She said she would only stay 15 minutes, then 30, then 45. Two whole hours she read and had coffee. And just when she had been tired of looking at that door expecting that tall older man enter, the very thing happened.

He walked in and saw her. Walked straight to her, asked her if she was leaving. She affirmed, acting cool, nervous, almost in disbelief.

'You want to go for a walk?'
'Yes, where are you going?'

They walked, talked, and what happened will be told, when the narrator knocks on this door, walks through it and tells you something about these lives once again...

To be continued...

Starbucks Part I (English Narrative)

*Relacionado con las series de Starbucks. Las pueden encontrar en este link.

She continued to drink her coffee. The man did not look up to see her. The day was nice. It wasn't too cold or hot. People came in and out, most looking for chairs. He had asked for the last one available. So people were forced to leave, hesitant, just in case someone might get up. She was enjoying her novel. It was the time when she had seen one of Jane Austen's favorite lines in Sense And Sensibilty. She had written about deserving the compliment of rational opposition. The compliment of rational opposition! Wow, she thought, how many people have I complemented in life! But it also amused her how this very simple girl seemed to know so many complicated things about extremely simple people who pretended to be complicated. And it was then that she realized how much time she had wasted, but how much more time she now had on her hands to focus on giving people who deserved it, that marvelous compliment. And then he looked up. She noticed. She pretended she didn't. He said, 'excuse me, you are really enjoying that book, aren't you?' She affirmed, planning to go right back into it, smiling inside, questioning if he really was what he appeared to be.

He noticed how big the book was and learnt that it was a collection of the seven novels. Observed her. She took notes. Wrote on the margins, smiled, had a curious look, smiled again. Sometimes you could see her teeth, other times she just grinned. He liked it. He thought there was something odd about her, something mysterious, or intriguing. She began to see him as a psycho and payed no mind. He apologized for interrupting her, looking for something else that she might say that would allow them to talk some more. She said, 'you're not bothering me, I am fond of observers, there's a lot to learn and teach from them'.

She asked wether he was a teacher or a learner. She liked his smile. He talked fluently. She soon realized that he was witty and they went on to have a conversation for a few more minutes, a conversation that would eventually lead to, probably not exactly what the reader might expect. But something that the writer is not in the mood of giving away, not just yet....

To be continued...

Disputa De Recién Llegada

"Amor, cuándo me llevarás a la playa?"

"Mi amor, es que aqui no se va a la playa."

"Cómo que no?"

"No, aqui la gente va a piscina y hace otras cosas."

"Pues vamos a hacer otra cosa. Estoy harta del apartamento, del bendito Univisión, y las benditas novelas. Tu vienes a este país, trabajas como un animal y ni siquiera lo conoces."

"Mami, yo quisiera tener el dinero para llevarte donde tu quieras, y quisiera poder tener el ánimo para hacerlo, pero no lo tengo."

"Pero yo no te estoy pidiendo que me lleves al Trump. Vámonos a andar aunque sea en guagua."

"Tá bien. Yo lo unico que quiero es estar contigo. Pero no te me vallas a enamorar de ningún gringuito."

"Cómo va hacer? Si yo nada más tengo ojos para mi platanito adorado."

Invierno

Winter arrived and with it came many frustrations. The cold streets complained. The people would hide behind a world of rags. The streets were often silenced. Everything screams silence, sadness, solitude. Laughs ended and the music stopped sounding like summer. The autumm faded away the remaining beauties, and the souls of lovers would lie upon frozen awakenings. It was harder for the homeless to find bread, and the memories would depress the guitars and each one of the musical cords.

"Don't leave"
She said with desperation, pretending not to sound so scared. He didn't answer. He was convinced that if he didn't speak, she would not ask him any more.
"Look at me"
She said, trying to find a way to get him to stay. She was beautiful and gentle. Her hair was long and brown. Her eyes were dark, big and expressive. She would look at him as if her eyes could translate the language of her begging soul. She was sitting on the bed naked, covering herself with white sheets, looking at the man that had made love to her getting dressed without caring for more. Her eyes were reddened and invaded by huge and heavy tears, just like her soul. He, after getting dressed, told her he would leave with his eyes fixed on the door. She pushed the sheets away, got on his way, and begged him again.
"Look at me"
His eyes were now fixed on the floor, and it was as if he suspected what would happen if he glanced his eyes at her. Until he was obliged by the situation, and he looked at her, and his eyes were weakened on her. He caressed her face, closed his eyes, and joining his forehead with hers he exhaled.
"I can't stay" he whispered.
"Then show me you want to stay" she said putting his hands on her waist.

His face became cold like snow. His eyes ceased to be weakened by the presence of the woman he loved, and spoke harshly.
"Understand this: I'm leaving. It's already winter and I have no more excuses to stay with you." She cried with a great cry. He would fight with the desire of hugging her.
"We should've left when we could. We should've married, and live the life you pretend to live with that woman."
She looked at him sadly and said: "I love you".
She kissed him with passion and gentleness. She asked him if he loved her and he affirmed. After a long, sweet kiss. He closed the door of that place leaving a poor woman in tears.

He abandoned once more the woman he loved. And his heart became frozen in the raw winter. He kissed other lips mechanically. And drowned himself in his religious routine. While she was burned by the love that tormented her, she would dedicate herself to painting murals from her heart, that burned in fire and waited. She waited for a man that loved her but that was too much of a coward to make it count for something. He drowned in the winter, and she burned his heart from affar, even if as a result of the cold, he couldn't perceive she kept it beating.

I think that the most beautiful thing that a woman can have is that no matter how hard life hits her, she never stops being that little girl. She never stops dreaming and she never stops loving.

******************************************
Llego el invierno y con el llegaron muchos pesares. Las calles frias se quejaban. La gente se escondia detras de un mundo de trapos. Las calles eran mas silenciosas. Todo grita silencio, tristeza, soledad. Se acabaron las risas y la misma musica dejo de sonar a verano. El otono se acabo de llevar las ultimas bellezas, y el alma de los amantes se recuesta sobre amaneceres helados. Les cuesta mas trabajo a los desamparados comerse un pan, y los recuerdos amargan las guitarras y deprimen cada una de las cuerdas musicales.

"No te vallas"
Le dijo con cierta desesperacion, pretendiendo no sonar tan asustada. El no le contesto. Se habia convencido de que si no hablaba entonces ella no le preguntaria mas.
"Mirame"
le dijo, queriendo de alguna manera conseguir que se quedara. Ella era hermosa y tierna. Su pelo era largo y marron, sus ojos color cafe, grandes y expresivos. Lo miraba como si sus ojos pudiesen transmitir la suplica de su alma. Estaba sentada en la cama desnuda, cubriendose con las sabanas blancas, mirando al hombre que la habia hecho suya vestirse sin importarle nada mas. Sus ojos se enrojecieron y fueron invadidos por lagrimas grandes y pesadas, como su alma. El, despues que se vistio, le dijo que se marchaba con su mirada dirigida hacia la puerta. Ella se despojo de las sabanas, se metio en su camino, y volvio a suplicarle.
"Mirame".
El tenia su mirada fija en el suelo, y era como si sospechara lo que pasaria si se asomaba a mirarla. Hasta que obligado por la situacion la miro, y sus ojos quedaron prendidos en ella. Acaricio su cara, cerro los ojos y juntando su frente a la de ella suspiro.
"No puedo quedarme", le susurro.
"Entonces demuestrame que quieres quedarte" le dijo colocando sus manos en sus caderas.

Su rostro se volvio frio como la nieve. Sus ojos cesaron de flaquear ante la presencia de la mujer que amaba, y le hablo duramente.
"Comprende esto: Me voy. Ya es invierno y no tengo mas excusas para quedarme contigo".
Ella lloro con gran lamento. El luchaba con el deseo de abrazarla.
"Debimos marcharnos cuando pudimos. Debimos casarnos, y vivir la vida que pretendes tener con esa."
Lo miro tristemente y le dijo:"Yo te amo."
Lo beso con pasion y ternura. Le pregunto si la amaba, y el se lo afirmo. Despues de un largo y tierno beso, cerro la puerta de aquel lugar dejando a una pobre mujer en lagrimas.

El abandono una vez mas a la mujer que amaba y su corazon se congelo con el crudo invierno. Beso otros labios mecanicamente y se sumergio en su diosa rutina. Mientras que ella se quemaba por el amor que la atormentaba. Se dedicaba a pintar cuadros de su corazon, que ardia en llamas, y esperaba. Esperaba a un hombre que la amaba, pero muy cobarde para hacer ese amor valer. El se ahogo en el invierno y ella quemaba su corazon desde lejos, y aunque el no lo percibia a causa del frio, ella lo mantenia latiendo.

Creo que lo mas lindo que puede tener la mujer es que por mas duro que le de la vida nunca deja de ser nina, nunca deja de sonar y nunca deja de amar.