He was about to leave when he heard a burst of laughter from a dark corner of the restaurant and then the cling of cutlery.
He recognized the laughter and he smelled his warmth, his smell. A natural perspiration that reached him, unexpected.
It was him.
They were talking in English and he understood. They were talking about travelling.
I love to travel, was saying the little slut. Travelling is the most worthwhile thing you can do.
Is there a special place where you would like to go? Asked his (boy?)-friend.
Everywhere, basically. But above all to Argentina.
Why Argentina?
Actually, not Argentina. I meant Buenos Aires.
Buenos Aires?
Yes.
Why?
I dunno. But I like the big cities. Is by the sea. I adore Spanish y la sangre caliente de la gente de Argentina...
He was surprised that the little slut desired to fly to Buenos Aires. He had the same dream, to fly to Buenos Aires and live there, maybe forever, even though, to be honest, he didn’t like to travel too much. He was convinced that travelling doesn’t really add anything to what you have inside you. It is not enriching, de facto. You don’t need to travel a lot to know how the world goes. Travelling too much can be just another way to dull yourself, to cheat yourself.
Then their voices got lost in the distance and floating around became dim and died.
They had left the restaurant.
He fell silent and listened to their robust laughing, fading away.
He recognized the laughter and he smelled his warmth, his smell. A natural perspiration that reached him, unexpected.
It was him.
They were talking in English and he understood. They were talking about travelling.
I love to travel, was saying the little slut. Travelling is the most worthwhile thing you can do.
Is there a special place where you would like to go? Asked his (boy?)-friend.
Everywhere, basically. But above all to Argentina.
Why Argentina?
Actually, not Argentina. I meant Buenos Aires.
Buenos Aires?
Yes.
Why?
I dunno. But I like the big cities. Is by the sea. I adore Spanish y la sangre caliente de la gente de Argentina...
He was surprised that the little slut desired to fly to Buenos Aires. He had the same dream, to fly to Buenos Aires and live there, maybe forever, even though, to be honest, he didn’t like to travel too much. He was convinced that travelling doesn’t really add anything to what you have inside you. It is not enriching, de facto. You don’t need to travel a lot to know how the world goes. Travelling too much can be just another way to dull yourself, to cheat yourself.
Then their voices got lost in the distance and floating around became dim and died.
They had left the restaurant.
He fell silent and listened to their robust laughing, fading away.
No comments:
Post a Comment