The solitaire story

Any given day, at some point in my life, i was walking errant on some street in the city that hold me once in it’s arms as my very own crib, i guess it does it likely; becouse, some years later; i shall make it’s grass look more green than ever, and the fruits from the trees around it’s parks will bare the  most exquisite flavor that a god’s paladar has ever taste… it come’s naturally from the blood which ran through my veins with an inusual strength each time you touch my face with that diabolic sight stolen from the Paradise av.

By that time i will be lying on the best bed ever where i can locked  my dreams inside a memoir cristal box as if it were a cute souvenire.

As i go between the corners of the streets, i can notice the world absent presence around the glass crown at my head.

Everybody stand tall static lifeless, as a garden full with fools made statues with the tears of inocent falling in grief for all those days without name when some of them use cry, or laugh in the shadow holy day, which posses a diferent meaning for each and every one inside the pantheons walls; this place fullfil with color looks death to my eyes; i’m the only eyewitness who realiced the sutil changes on the air upon this special day.

A soft rain hits me with anger, and, in a useless attempt to don’t getting wet, i try to make smaller my shoulders and finaly hide my hands in my pockets… the best part of living in that city is, that it does not matter how cold the weather is, becouse there is always some one there disposed to warm you up… however, this day,  i could not  to get warm; not even walking on the surface of a distant sun…my reason to fall appart, is the storm unleashed hours ago inside of me.

In This glorified Saturday, everyone runs to find the wáter, hidding the modesty inbetween the skin and the clothes and the heartlocker where  they put o their other halfs.

I took a look closely to avoid an accident againts a lost member of the crowd, and even so, i crash on a frontal full impact againts a  very old known wall that already knows my  face; that’s becouse we meet each other everyday when i see a couple together in the dark.

This couples playing under the rain are coreographers dancing a waltz; a well prepared  flirting made with the tongue, the lips, and in other  cases, some other parts.

¨damn…. I must find shelter.¨ says my mouth thinking at loud. The valentine’s day is for people in love, it don’t belong to a puppet with no master or heart. soon i find a perfect place, it is almost empty, in here, i’ll be ok. But the things quickly change when i came inside… there were only on each table a male, with diferent ages, colors and measures, but the face in everyone was the same, just one lady fat with a mustache was taking a table, singing and drinking with the expertise of a veteran.

I took the last free table, good luck or fate… pall?, then, i saw in the center of the table a flower,  a yellow rose shining like a star, it clouds my eyes, i couldn’t hold it, i had to cry, it looked so beautyfull that just brought me a sad memory with my beloved one.

The tiny vase had a paPer on the lower part, it said MADE IN CHINA……SOLITAIRE… It stole me a laugh.

Wow…what a pathetic perfect moment, it just made me wanna die,  in writing i’m better, and in a napkin i put my part. The note said.

“i am the last laughing always, that’s because i am alone, there is it, my only victory”

Then i cover it with the salt.

It was my legacy to the next customer… but i wasn’t capable to stop my tears, becouse the truth was hurting me under my left arm.

That’s only an empty victory like a dry cup of glass….it taste to dirt and ashes; there is nothing worst to being alone and starving used to said mom…i’m starving with afecction, and i’ve being living 26 years alone, without a soul or another voice to have a simple chat.

Made By:

Edgar Fabian Gil Amado.

The Sight Behind The Dark.

If you loved it, or if you hate  it please leave a comment, thanks for reading my blog.

También puedes leer este poema/historia en español en la publicación anterior de este mismo blog

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