Linux: Every Time

A short conversation

The old-fashioned red telephone rang. The sound was heard in every corner of the house. Weirded out, the one drinking coffee started to answer. It was a friend who two days ago kicked the bucket.

-- But why are you calling me? Asked the one whose coffee was turning cold. -- I missed you, and I want to check how you are doing. -- That's very kind, but you are not supposed to be talking to me.

In the small studio, the conversation went on. While outside, there was a howling storm. With dry sweat on his chest, The coffee drinker pressed the handset on his head.

-- I can't see very much from here; I'm not in the mood to move. -- That's because you are affected by a lack of life. -- Don't be silly; it happens all the time!

Surreal, yet so mundane Who would have guessed? A dialogue with a recently lost friend But the living one was now impatient.

-- I mean, you're deceased, you are not supposed to contact me. -- I reckon so, but it wouldn't hurt to talk while having some tea. -- Do you drink? But you didn't like it!

A sigh was heard from the other side. It was clear that the lost one was ready to puke it all out. And what he said made our drinker pale for quite a while.

-- life is what happens between lunches. I forgot to exist, and it took a few punches. I know it's manipulative, but please do not be mean. and accept my sincere apology.

The not-so alive one hung up the phone. What's more ghastly than guilt and woe? What's more unforgivable than lost love? From the small studio, a cry was heard that lasted a month.

I just want to burn time until there's no more time for me to burn.

The pale man yelled alone.

Unnerving stanzas of Edgar Allan Poe,

I realized and cried, "You moron!"

"That's not a raven, it's a crow!!"

Walking home

I was walking on the train tracks alone. While rainy, foggy darkness was surrounding me, I can barely see thanks to my phone. walking next to a ditch stream, knee-deep.

My only witness was a cute little bird. Jumping, flying, chirping, and crying While I'm under my umbrella made of blue. Against the fabric, the water burred

Walking through a deserted rural zone In the distance, I could see the next station light. My trousers are being moisturized, and my head is dry from the storm. But I had to be careful not to jam my shoes on the track.

The night is cold. My hands are shaking. No reflections; I can't see my breath. There is no option but to keep walking. Each step on the quebracho Railroad ties gets me closer to my bed.

Suddenly, a cold breeze sent shivers down my spine. Something was coming, but the little bird told me not to look back. I shall be fine as long as I keep moving forward. It was the entity that was roaming around.

-"Hello young boy", the suave voice said. A sharp pain on my shoulder almost made me faint. But the bird told me not to look back. That's how it gets you, you shall never be seen alive.

-"It's rude to not answer in kind." I could feel a strong grip behind my neck. I acted as if I didn't care; I carried on with my long steps. But the presence was persistent enough to be contemplated.

-"If you don't talk to me, you'll regret it now!" The bird could not speak up, for it was pulled back fast. The last thing the birdie could tell was not to look back. Now we were alone—it and I.

I tried to run to the next station light. It was in vain; I was far away. And the creature was clawing my legs. -"It's over, young one; you shall be a nice dessert."

Ears on the wet ground I couldn't help it, but I laughed aloud. Its claws lifted my face. -"What's so funny, or did you just lose your head?"

With a quick kick, I made it stumble to the tracks. -"The train is almost here, you ghastly clown," and then I got up. The wretched-looking thing did not understand. But the train took all its remains to the moon and out.

Emerging from the dark fog The silent metal snake carried out its route. From that night forward, I did not travel alone. Because I can see it's wicked grin when I keep my eyes close.

¡25 publicaciones!

I've never thought I would write so much 😅

Just another day...

Another comunist eating a big mac

It's so hot in the summer; it's a waste of time.

Free thinkers are chugging Simon's chyme.

[Chorus]

Just another day in paradise!!!

Don't sit around; you better get green bucks!

While the fascists are doing peace signs

Happy Birthday, Rosy! Have some rotten pie!

[Chorus]

Just another day in this futuristic grime!!!

Life and microchips were a mistake.

A crisis is caused by greed and pain.

Don´t ask your grandma, or she'll rot in hell.

[Chorus]

Just another day is what it takes!!!

Just don't look at the news!!

Panic and powder are on the Day view!!

Shit eating grins showing a school phew phew!!

[Chorus]

Just another day in disgust!!

"The law is made for you to abide!"

exclaimed the micro-plastic rich with pride.

While politicians are launching the last genocide.

[Chorus]

Just another day in paradise!!!

Interloper

I remember that day well. My first delivery was at an old man's house. He was taking a nap, alone, in his library, hugging a big leather bound tome. I slowly woke him up, called his name and we went for a walk.

After a couple more takeaways, I sat down at a cafeteria for some ice cream.

- "Don't worry, I'll order one for you." Said the middle-aged man to his wife.

She didn't take any seat, she was looking rather annoyed. Shortly after, the man emerged from the ice cream parlour.

- "Pistachio, whisky cream and ... what was your favourite flavour?"

- "You well know I'm allergic to pistachios, change it to strawberry." she said, raising her voice a bit.

The fair haired man entered the shop again, now she really was annoyed. Not even a minute has passed when the man knocked from inside the place's window.

- "Do you know where I put my credit card again?" asked with a mix of meekness and muffleness from the glass panel.

The red haired woman sighed in frustration, passed the shop's threshold, extracted the man's credit card from his pocket and said: "let me do it".

After a lovely cool dessert, I took another nicotine gum (withdrawal is hell I tell you) and paid a visit to a brother and sister. The sun was up high, vaporising everything it touched. They were buried alive under rubble, a missile hit their apartment. He was hugging his little sister when I came. A really sad picture, I confess, but the job must be done. I held him by the shoulder, called his name and we left that horrible dark place. I shook his clothes to remove the little debris he had on his clothes and we went for a walk.

They said "Juan Gonzales" (a cover name), you see, I know everyone by their name, their true name, so I know where to find them. The room of the hospital was white, clean in appearance, he was on the hospital bed, being watched by his friend, who was holding his hand. I did not waste time, a few minutes later I was out, consuming my next nicotine gum.

The next call was in an apartment, a guy was punching the walls in rage, she was lying in the middle of the living room, covered from head to toe in blood and bruises. I hate to see them in bad condition, moreover, I can't finish a delivery successfully if they look so rough. So I did the humane thing of cleaning her wounds and wash her carefully in the copper bathtub, she then woke up, she looked herself, looked at me and smiled, thanked me, told me she was an engineer, she just won an internship at NASA, I congratulate her, said her name and we went for a walk.

I was having some pepperoni pizza for lunch when they said "Juan Gonzales", I remember thinking: "Again?! Did I miss that one?". I entered the hospital's lobby, 10th floor, white impeccable room, the two alone being engulfed by the yellow emanations of the noon's light. The bedridden’s friend was immobile as a marble statue, I swear, he was not blinking the whole time! I said Juan Gonzales' true name, and a few minutes later I was masticating another nicotine gum on a bench at the park.

The next take-away was a courtesy call from a rockstar, he was trying to reach me, after he broke up with a gorgeous gal. He shut himself in the damp bedroom and produced a rusty, filthy, syringe from his backpack, laid down on the bed and he inject himself with some white substance, an hour later I was holding his long greasy hair, helping him puke into the toilet, I said his name and we went for a walk.

I was drinking my evening black coffee with some toast when they said "Juan Gonzales", I exploded in anger, complained and argued whether that was some kind of prank or miracle, they replied that there are miracles no more.

Flustered, I entered the old hospital, took the lift to the 10th floor, now the orange lights were the only warm thing in the room, Juan Gonzales was looking at the night sky while the statue-for-a-friend was still holding his hand. Then it struck me, the fact was I couldn't recall that living statue's name, in fact, I do not recall seeing his face before!. I need to tell you this, because I'm good with names and faces, I can exactly pinpoint down the flavour of ice cream, the middle-aged couple where having that morning, but, this man was a fuzzy memory, a dream you usually fight to stay with you after you wake up. So I was there, next to the IV drop, about to say the bed ridden young man's real name, when they shouted at me that the contractor had cancelled the order due to some unforeseen factors, suffice to say it was an uncommon event.

After such a change of plans, the healthy one got up and walked up to the door. I was still puzzled by his nature, so I tried to follow him, but just before leaving the patient's room, he turned to me and I swear we made eye contact for a second! my heart almost stopped, he didn't say a thing, I was struck by a lighting bolt, he just scouted the room and then he entered the empty corridor. Did he see me? Did I imagine it? I shall never know, for I had doubts, it might well have passed a second or a minute, I left the room and found nothing in the corridor! the young fuzzy man was nowhere I mean NOWHERE to be found in the entire hospital!

The last thing I remember is that it was a quiet night, other times, I would have complained to the air about lacking any take-aways. Now, I was grateful, I needed to take some fresh air on a building roof overlooking the pretty lights of the urban landscape. I touched my right pocket, there was an old dry stick left, I remembered her lips under the slimming moon at sea, I remember her too well: "You shouldn’t smoke, it’ll kill you." she said, taking the same cancer stick from my mouth, robbing me a kiss. I can still hear her sweet laugh when we went for a walk. I remember thinking "yes, it will kill me" while lighting the cigar.

December fright

December fright.

There's no peace of mind.

Just empty laughs, echoing around.

-"OMG! Are you sad?"

-"Hide your face right now!"

-"You're dragging us down!"

Now, I drink alone on the roof.

Having a slice of pizza at midnight.

While fireworks paint the sky blue.

No more empty ball rooms,

No more wasted champagne.

It's so easy to say: "enough!"

Now the summer night is turning cold.

A small relief from the old,

Alone with my pop songs.

happy festivities to you all!!

Linux pronoums: she/bang!