nine o'clock at night. It is too early to be with my quote of the day. Activity in the first local meeting. I ask for a glass of chardonnay and let me absorb this enchanting place. Without knowing how or why, I find myself talking to the owner. I realize that it takes little time in business, which is a bad time, you just go live with your partner, and points to the bottom of the bar, where a bearded man bigger than a bear is grinning ear to ear and winks at me.
I feel the protagonist of a book by Corin Tellado, and I am alone in the bar, spinning so distracted with my cup, slightly abstracted in the smoke of snuff, which is bound up in the air with two or three men's perfumes.
I do not know what time it is now, but I'm sure I'm late. Lately I'm getting a taste of this to go with the rope around his neck. I guess I've always been characterized as being more timely than I would like, let me now carried away by my new sense pseudohippie and disheveled me taking off all the clocks, leaving me by each of the moments I live, as if the last moment of my life ...
feel something vibrating in my bag, and I know that is the gentleman with whom he stayed for dinner. Since I had almost forgotten. I answer reluctantly, and I am amazed to find that takes half an hour waiting in the bar opposite. Pay the waiter and I run away, leaving my heels step a jog on the asphalt. There, you see. I do and I have the pretty eyes to one side, in a barely perceptible movement. I know it has been passed around the anger ...
We sat at a table. This is a pretty good inn Galician reputation. I have no hunger, but he is so excited that I smile in spite of everything. Talk to the owner and the two very menu manages ad hoc my nutritional needs. He tells me about his children, his years living in Denmark and in southern Spain. He tells me he studied fine arts but never came to dedicate the scene. He has over 60 years, and I feel half absorbed by your wisdom, experience and its form of expression.
I feel very frivolous, and I apologize, explaining that I need to go the bathroom. I look in the mirror for more than two minutes, watching carefully every feature of the face, and for the first time in my life I feel old. I am an adult. I do not know at what moment I glimpsed a bit of pain in my gestures, but I forgot the discovery at the time I took the second cup of ribeiro .
When the desserts, one of the waiter brings me a French rose, called Hope centuries ago by a gardener of Louis XIV. Inside the envelope is a note, but I prefer to leave to the reader's imagination content. I feel my face redden, thank you, and I yawn a hint of that dream is to express more than anything else.
I proposed going to take a gintonics , but I prefer to make a little distance. I had not enjoyed much of a conversation, a company, a dinner, a rose ... But consider it appropriate to show that gentleman that I consider him more of a charming grandfather that a potential suitor.
me to the car, not left to pay anything. Give me a hug and asked me to call you. I think he knows that I will not, at least in a long time. I sit in the driver's seat, turning mirror slightly to expand my field of vision. I feel strange, so I took two seconds to collect my thoughts. I paint my lips a deep red again and I glimpse the corner of my eye to my companion walked up the street, probably in the direction of home. I feel and quiet ...
Two days
I never thought after the dinner that day. I did not think about it.
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