like an infinite landscape

heraldo: will you tell me about your memories, please?

man: they are like an infinite landscape

heraldo: do you remember someone in particular?

man: yes, a woman

heraldo: you knew her well?

man: i always felt she was a stranger

heraldo: you mean that…..?

man: that trying to apprehend her or her nature could have been, somehow, an erotic experience. but it would have always involved possession.

heraldo: or revenge

man: you never get to know anyone. sometimes you can only feel that you no longer ignore them

heraldo: what will you do now?

man: remember her…

heraldo: how was she?

man: beautiful... in a sense, it was a shame

heraldo: how did you react to her death?

man: it was natural. what else could i expect?

heraldo: where is her body now?

man: are you serious? under other circumstances we would have had a family, babies, a nice house….

heraldo: but you had certain obligations, right?

man: i couldn't avoid my duties

black widows

the female black widow is shy and nocturnal in habit. she does not leave her hidden web voluntarily and is completely out of her area when away from the web. outbreaks of black widows occur erratically. some years an area may have thousands of widows and the next year they may be gone. certain kinds of habitats such as sand dune areas may have black widows every year. alternating warm and cold weather during the winter and spring months are detrimental to survival.

conversations

(he used to talk about love as if it was something that only happened to others)

sometimes she got attached to a certain concept and she kept using it in her conversations. she often wondered if anyone noticed this. like when she got accustomed to inserting random words in the middle of a phrase only to test if he was paying attention. he never seemed to realize. or maybe he did but he wouldn't mention it on purpose, just to leave her wondering.

she used to spend time listening to conversations in the train or the bus. people who felt that they had to fill the silence with words. they had no respect. the woman in the train who was talking to herself about sinners and the power of the bible to heal all pains. she probably had no deep sorrow to endure.

make-up and lipstick

a room decorated with jungle and zebra patterns. a green couch (green as in "fake leather" green). a fish bowl on a table. tinny plastic fish swimming in acrylic. bright colors, fish going back and forth, up and down, a hypnotic effect for anyone who would stare at them. he lays on the bed, fully dressed, smoking a cigarette. standing in front of a mirror, she looks at him with a smile

- (applying a light foundation on her face) i vanished trying to find the correct word, wasted my life searching for a smile or a hint. someone who would just say it, someone who would find me beautiful (she takes off her necklace, the silver chain she always wears).

- yeah babe, show it to me

- (black eye liner on her left eyelid, the brush running smoothly, her fingertip removing the excess) time is my disease. all those people i met, and who will soon be gone from my memory. who am i? i spent an eternity waiting for a sign or a phrase. someone who would wave at me, who would hold me (removing the bracelet in her arm)

- come on bitch, give me more….i wanna see it all

- (running the eyeliner over her right eyelid, carefully following the shape of her eyes, wide open to avoid stains) i used to sit in the darkness listening to the radio, hoping that time would pass and i would be different, changed, saved. none of this ever happened. and all i could do was live in hope. (she unzips her black leather dress, slowly taking it off).

- i want your body, cunt….and i want it now

- (applying powder on her cheeks with a thick brush) when i was a little girl i wanted to spend my life in a desert island. living on my own. completely on my own, in emptiness. (she takes off her bra, dropping it on the floor)

- you are such a hot slut and i will fuck you silly.

- (deep red lipstick, slowly applying it, mouth half open, lips parted, her index finger correcting any possible imperfection) but those days are gone now. (taking off her panties, she stands in front of him).

i think i love you

she is tied to a chair. he holds a magnifying glass in one hand and a notebook in the other. he approaches her with a smile.

- (taking a close look at her hair) beautiful, though it would need a treatment. i would even suggest changing the color. black doesn't suit you, never did. a soft shade of blonde would brighten your expression. we will work on that in time. (smelling the hair) sweet. you smell of peaches. maybe it's the new shampoo i bought you? (taking a look at her eyes with the magnifying glass) strange. i had never noticed that greenish sparkle before. no, do not blink, please. just another second (he writes something in the notebook). do not move. hold your breath for a moment. (looking at her cheeks through the magnifying glass) hmm, a tinny hair. almost imperceptible. amazing. i always learn something new about you. your lips. that slight tremble. you are not nervous, are you? (he finds something in the lower lip, could be a wrinkle he has never seen before, or an imperfection in the skin) you are a different person every day. i guess that's the reason why we are so close. you always surprise me with these delicate changes. (she tries to smile) yes…i can see you are enjoying this. and so am i, darling. (looking at her chin through the magnifying glass. he checks something in his notebook, touching her neck with his fingertips, sliding them down. he unbuttons her blouse) no, please, stay quiet. i said quiet. (his hands on her chest) you are cold. that's unusual. you are not having a good day. i had already noticed that. (taking a close look at her chest, running his index finger over the bra, a smooth laughter) your nipples are cute under the cloth. (he writes something down in his notebook). we will finish this later. i am tired, guess we both need a rest, dear. (kissing her slightly in the forehead).

little guinea pigs

whispering unknown words in his ear. (did he ever understand them? did he ever try to make any sense in such situation?). she would whisper them while undressing him (specially when she knew that he would not pay attention to words). she would mumble them in the middle of a kiss, or while sliding her hands over his calves. (she always had a yearn for reactions. and in a sense he was a disappointment).

little guinea pigs (such an amusing pet, one who wouldn't complain about her observations). maybe i should get myself one, she thought. (half a smile, muttering the idea while biting his neck gently).

do you understand my passions?

- i read this unusual book yesterday. it was about a woman who was dating a younger man. she was totally mad about him, but she couldn't understand why he would be interested in her.

- did you enjoy the reading?

- yes, i guess i did. i am not sure, though. she was worried about their relationship. too worried actually.

- why?

- she kept wondering if it was the right thing to do, if he could only be infatuated. probably she was scared of an ephemeral passion.

- sounds like a stupid novel to me.

- that's because you didn't read it. she wanted this man with all her heart (maybe that's your problem, you never want anything with all your heart).

- then why was she so troubled?

- she felt there was a gap between what she wanted and what was right. she was too involved and she was in terror. she would have never resisted a broken heart.

- is there a happy ending?

- she dies in the end

- see? i told you it was an obtuse story.

an evening together

sitting in front of the table. candles and porcelain. wearing a short red dress, bare shoulders, high heels. his eyes when he eats. looking at her with a half smile. he takes one bite, chewing it slowly for a while. she looks down. sight fixed on her lap. bright eyes (the soft shadow of the candle light). hair falling on her face. brilliant, a perfect view. he drinks some wine.

he moves his chair sitting close to her (he can feel her breathing next to his face) and serves her some food and wine.

- what a magnificent dinner, darling. (feeding her in the mouth). don't you just love it when we spend quality time together? (she takes the bite) and today is a special occasion, isn't it? (feeds her again, a mouthful this time) did i tell you about our holiday plans? i think i didn't. never mind, i am sure you will be extremely happy. you need sunbathing, you know? you are too pale. (another bite, this time she refuses to take it) open wide, please (she nods) wide (she opens her mouth, takes the bite). is it too salty or it was just me? about the holidays, i was thinking we could have three weeks. we both need a rest. and it will be a wonderful opportunity. (giving her some wine) take it, please. you are funny when you drink. (she smiles) i was even considering renting a summer cottage. well, it was just an idea anyway. we will discuss it later (another bite, she accepts it. he cleans her mouth with a napkin and offers her more wine). guess it's enough, isn't it?

guided tour

points of interest

the lights in the sky at dawn (when everyone else is sleeping). the sound of the passing cars in the highway. an orgasmic moan. someone who is leaving it all behind and waves goodbye in silence. a child calling his mother (suddenly awaken in the middle of a nightmare, scared and thirsty). a last breath and those last words which never sounded so foolish (i will always love you). the mona lisa and a land of fire. and those legs around my neck, but i try not to take the piss. dreaming of a road while driving. the horizon. the venus of milo. theseus. the smell of roses. whoever will give me those shots and bring warmth to these bones. the eyes of a stranger. the north wind. the deep veins and the blood. dante's limbo (and the tied lovers).

or i walk down the empty road humming and screaming, almost with the same strength and to the same tune.

personal battles

breakfast at mc donald's. i drink bad coffee. it's cold outside. autumn.

i read the newspaper. (an enthomologist approach to the news). three kids (ages 15 to 17) go to a drugstore in a small town (some small town anywhere). they point at the boy working the cash register with a gun (the boy is 16). he knows them. they used to play soccer together. they live in the same small town. the kid is not even scared. he thinks its a joke or something. hey, you guys, what the fuck are you doing? give us the money, they say. the kid argues. it's my daily salary, he says, the owner won't pay me if you take the money (only ten dollars in left in the cash register). they insist. (the kid makes 100 dollars a month working in the drugstore after school hours). he still thinks it's a joke of some kind. they shoot him in the middle of the chest and run away with the ten dollars (the frozen second between the shooting and the impact in his chest, when he realized it wasn't a joke at all).

they bring ambulances and doctors. someone calls the kid's dad. dad is a retired police officer working as private security in a shopping mall nearby. dad gets there. he sees the doctors and his son on the ground. blood all over his chest. the place is already crowded with curious people. dad mutters something to the doctors. his son is dead. dad takes his gun, looks at the doctors and says there's nothing left. dad shoots himself in the head.

it's cold outside and mc donald’s breakfasts suck anyway. the breeze and a chilling air.