Drinking a cup of tea

Should I start this story as all my stories?

Please

If you say so.

Please, do not do it. Think. You are more than a bunch of night stars, destroyed kingdoms, princess in destress and psychological shadows.

Maybe you are right, but I have to start this story in the sky.

Why? Are you lack of creative ideas? Are you just recycling your own stories? That is so sad.

Perhaps I need a dark beginning to show how rude is the reality.

Or you can just tell us how a day starts, as simple as “It was a warm morning”

Or I can say “It is a cold night”

No! You are not just getting the point. All your stories seem to be plain: night, cold, moon, stars and dead. What do you really want to write?

Is this an interview?

I am your friend, and for what you write, I am sure that you are not okay.

What is to be “okay”?

Are we going to argue about a simple word?

You started.

I want you to release your mind from those “dark” thoughts. A day is not only night, stars, mountains, village and kingdoms. A day is a day, sun, cities, towns. A year is not only winter, but also summer.

Oh! I got it, you don’t like fantasy tales. But anyways, I am going to tell you this story, which surprisingly starts at night, below a thousands of stars.

Please, don’t.

 

And so it all started with a wish asked ten years ago.

 

Are you serious?

Do not interrupt me, after I finish the tale, you will be able to judge me, and if you consider convenient, you can kill me.

Don’t be so dramatic.

 

Well, the wish was asked ten years ago, during another night. This youngling was drinking a cup of dark chocolate, when a comet passed through the dark sky. He did not hesitate and he closed his eyes, he whispered his wish, and his words flew to the comet. Now, ten years later, while watching the dark sky and trying to count the stars, a young girl appeared out of the blue.

 

Indeed you have lost all your creativity.

Maybe you are right, or maybe not. What are you doing?

Drinking tea, and eating biscuits. You?

Drinking a cup of chocolate, and talking to you.

Again you were about to write a story about you.

Not me, but a friend of mine.

Who also drinks chocolate, and asks wishes to the comets in the skies?

Yes, all my stories are about real people.

I think all your stories are about how you see the world.

What’s the difference? I will tell you my day, then. Perhaps you’ll find it more interesting than a fantasy tale.

Let’s see.

 

About the temperature, warm, between 19 and 22 degrees. No wind and no rain, just a warm winter.

 

You are better than that, be dramatic, but not sad.

I woke up from a bad dream, some people call them nightmares, but I call them “our mind solving problems we do not understand”. I saw my clock, amazingly it was one hour before the alarm. Thinking whether to sleep one more hour or wake up. You may know the answer, or maybe not, I should write something unexpected. Most of you are expecting what we all do, sleep one more hour. And this will lead to two options, wake up when the alarm says or wake up late. No, I decided to wake up one hour before the alarm, went to the bathroom and returned to my bed, to sleep some forty minutes more. But you know, there were not just forty minutes, there were two hours. And thanks to the sun I woke up at nine o’clock. Do I need to describe then, that my room has a big window which receives the whole sunbeams every morning? That is my real alarm. I cannot bear the warm of the sun, therefore I wake up immediately and start my day. I checked the temperature on the internet. 17 degrees, but at midday it increased to 21 degrees. Do I need to add how much I hate hot? But hold on, I need to wait for your reply. No reply? Well, it is in this moment when the real story starts.

 

Ten or eleven o’clock, I do not remember, or maybe yes, that is not relevant. I went out, to have a walk, when a girl. Yes, it is a cliché, but who cares? All the world is based on clichés, on lies, on illusions on stories made up hundred or even thousands of years ago. And this story is not an exception. This girl, with long black hair and a fair skin, got my attention. I just wanted to buy an ice cream, I needed to calm this hot. But this girl changed my plans. I started following her, keeping enough distance so she wasn’t unable to notice me. We walked for five hundred meters before she decided to use a bus. Until now, I could see her jeans, her shoe soles, her sweater, her bag, her wrists, and hair. For a normal person, this could have no meaning, but for me. I made up plenty of questions. I tried to answer them, but with no success. During our trip on the bus, I saw her; she took out her student id, I had a glance, and I deduced that she was about to get off the bus in the next stop. So, I get off in the previous stop. I walked fast enough, and I get to the other bus stop, where she walked even faster than me. Before we crossed a street, she asked me “Why are you following me?”

“I am curious about your clothes”

“My clothes? What do my clothes have?”

“I was wondering why do you use a new sweater and jeans, but you still use old shoes, but now I can see. You stole the sweater. Now I am more curious than before. How did you manage to steal it without…”

“Are you a police officer?”

“Oh! I got it, I know those pants, and you work in a clothes shop, so easy to steal them. Why did you that? This sweater only cost a few hundred pesos”

“Are you only interested on me because of the combination of a clothes?”

“No, but because of that fake identification that you have”

“What?”

“Unless you are a man, that Id you have with you is not yours”

“Then what, are you my mom or father? There are not with me anymore”

“And the hair, is not black originally, who are you?”

“Help! Help!

She started to scream, some guys near her manage to hit me down. I received several hits, but I fought, I told her “I can help you, do not do what you are planning to do”.

The police was approaching me, I said for the last time “I can help you, revenge is not the best way”

The police men came and asked what the situation was, some people said that I was stalking her, but she said “Stop, he is my boyfriend”

 

The same again, what is your point? What do you feel when you safe the damsel in distress. Is that something about your subconscious, why is there a girl to safe, and above all, a non-related to you girl? Why not a family member, a friend, a girlfriend, you? Or is that you trying to safe? Saving cities are not about you, there is always a girl in your stories. Every problem leads you to a girl or a woman, or the moon, which at the end is a woman. What do you need? Tell me, I am here to listen to you. Asked whatever you want.

Stop me. Just that. You will understand.

But you need to keep moving in order to live.

Then you know what I need.

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