My palms cover halves of my eyes, through which I can see the white blank of the word processor. I am thinking…
I want to hug you and spend a night with you. I am drunk, and nearly naked. I have just bought Underground Railroad. And I am going to write you a letter. My house in… is nice, and it is spacious. I hope that you can come one day. I already imagine us in it.
The blank of the word processor faces me. I need a hug of a human being.
“Do you know some bar where we could dance?” I asked Patrick and Carmen. “I want to dance with you though I am very bad at it. Just want to do it.”
There came no reply. It was too late.
He looked at himself in the mirror, his mind was full of the sea. Who danced like it were the end of the world at Para toda la vida by El sueño de Morfeo? Perhaps it was too late, for everything. Could it be?