Tuesday, June 12, 2007

the Flower and the Storm

Once upon a time, a very delicate flower grew alone between some rocks. It was a little flower, but its sadness was immense - it didn't want to be alone. So, one day, a terrible windstorm came nearby. The flower asked: "Storm, will you take me with you"? The storm kept approaching. The flower said again: "Storm, will you take me away from those rocks"? The storm then saw the flower, and reckoned it was a beautiful flower, and was afraid of destroying it. The storm slowed down, and when its first breezes touched the flower, the flower said: "take me"! The storm twisted around the flower, turning and turning, fascinated. It then saw the flower would never resist, and tried to go away. In its effort, it took a petal off. The flower stood there, shaking and hurt, watching the storm to grow darker in the horizon.

Saturday, June 02, 2007

déjà vu

He went to a French restaurant with his two friends, a Brazilian couple. She ordered a steak, his friend got the duck and he got the rabbit. They shared a bottle of red wine, ate and had some dessert. They walked half a block north to the next intersection, found the "Russia House" and climbed the stairs. They sat at the old wooden chairs, looking to the streets through the round windows. He's got a "shot" of Vodka, which turned out to be a martini glass full of it. He drank it, his friends drank their stuff and everyone left. He walked, searching on his phone for "clubs". On his right there was some movement, and the phone agreed. He walked in there, showed his ID, browsed around the bar for Her and gave up. He pushed some people around and ordered a Long Island. They returned a wrong credit card and he was still sober enough to recognize it. He got his card, walked around once again and decided to go home. Took the wrong right. Followed some people around a traffic circle. Followed other people towards a bar. Showed his ID, entered the bar. The bar looked strangely familiar, he made a note to write about déjà vu. He intuitively found the restroom, which was positioned similarly to that of the other bar. He saw those two girls he saw earlier and figured they must have walked to the same place. Then he sat down for another drink and saw the same waitress. And the realization finally came: he went back to the same bar. Realizing he was too drunk to do anything other than sleeping, he drank some water and stumbled towards the exit. Asked where the subway station was. Walked there. Sat on the escalators. Got out of the metro, where some Virginian people asked for a bar. Joined them, and after much effort got a tequila before 3am. Stumbled back home, grabbed his laptop and wrote something. Slept sitting there, woke up two hours later. Finished his tale only the next day.