It took her about twenty minutes to forget about the cellphone she had left in the car, five or six kilometers away. The same twenty minutes of walking it took to get far enough to not see the clearance where she parked. She was not a sedentary person, but it seemed like the longest walk she had ever done, and she wasn’t even halfway there yet. There. She noticed she didn’t even know where “there” is. She was following the path as she was told to. No electronics, just the essential. Go that way until you find the shack. Don’t stray from the trail. She has been walking since morning, still not there. She don’t know what time is it, anyway, her watch in the car with the rest of the things she valued so much. Judging by the position of the sun over her head she made a wild guess of around noon. No sign of a cabin. Looking back, no sign of the car, or even the road. The backpack getting heavier each step. Continue reading
I was alone at the restaurant’s bar, waiting for our table to be ready, waiting for everyone else. I always liked to get places early, be the one who waits. Usually, it doesn’t get me anxious. I sit somewhere, sip a drink, read a book. It gives me time to observe, to be quiet. Plus, I just hate being late. This time, I couldn’t drink, read, observe. I couldn’t certainly be quiet. I got here anxious. I was nervous pretty much throughout the day, even the night before. Hell, I began worrying once I set up that dinner.
It was the first time my soon to be wife would meet one of my best friends. Continue reading
The wrinkled old men in front of him almost couldn’t hold the bowl for him to fill it with soup. When he did, the elder made an effort to bring the bowl closer to his face and smelled it. It was like he couldn’t believe his luck. The young men serving him felt the same. Continue reading
I was up the hill, watching the passengers going on the train that would lead them to the next town, as I had done several times. I watched the coming and going of people and luggage, families saying goodbye, workmen checking the cars, tightening screws, oiling. I liked the small station’s particular rhythm that time of the year. Early in the morning, before the train arrival, the few people there would be sitting on the benches, some reading newspapers, others inspecting their baggage, one impatient standing up, checking his watch every three minutes, some times a mother rocking a baby. Continue reading