I wait the perfomance ending to applaud
Silence, a little, scream almost nothing, skipping ideas and jumping on desires, opening the will, leading to falling for something that I believed in that instant that could belong, a moral behaviour and ethical decision about what she wants. I ask myself if it was not a soul from her internal child that strangely manifested, a memory or ghost from the past that she doesn't control. Maybe it was something between materiality and dream.
Why a free person, at a given moment, has another personality, involved by emotions and feelings that translated as madness. The act from psychological drama, extremely personal that is twisted from a shadow side to bright. I could not understand. Not a short conversation she was good, gladly and attentive with what happened around us.
Perhaps because she is a youth with no more than twenty one of age, I know that she imitates her community, making that woke up now, trying show that she had a love, affair in bed, hoarse and something seem like hiccup, a form invented of to be clumsy, abandoned movement, pretend to be natural when is enforced in every look. What does she see, and why this transformation? What she thought, what put her in this psychological state?
Will she pretend all this chaotic situation, she tries with this to dominate me, or does not, does she only in crisis.
Indifferent from these momentaneous things, I know that she can pay attention, to have comprehension about the world that happens at the same time here and in the street.
I do not see anybody that does not try to search for a job, to do something, accepting the responsibility to do devolutive to this government form. All people want to realize their lives, to live in law condition.
I know that it is not easy, democracy is in crisis because we lost the governability and on the other hand, against grains we are living with administration, gestion of monetary schemes. It is because of the weakness of an ethical position from politicians, bad human formation, a failed awareness, a belief that speaks more aloud from noble origin and disregard for the community, for our culture. I know.
I have a will to disappear in front of her, but it is my obligation, I need to remain here until she comes for herself. While I wait for it to happen, I take a lamp to a habana cigar, and go to an open place to enjoy this time.
I have a skewed eyes, I can to see for eyes corner, I can control all movement that she makes going to kitchen, turning around, opening window, putting something on plate, taking a coffee and slowly in a crocked steps with a little trembling to balance cup coffee that bringing to me.
I see that and do not believe in what I see. It is a performance. Almost a comedy, but have an incense in the air that shows the drama, fake tragedy.
She presents to me like a dama trying to show her quality, curve her shoulders, enforce to show her breasts, always smiling and touch my hand when giving the coffee. Why this now? She is crazy? I did a turn to the room leaving her behind me.
My God! She got furious!
Left with steps like military marches hitting things, streaming grotesque and agitated. She said something like an accusation, I think that she tried to make me guilty or have this sensation. I can say that she almost made it. But, the cigar and coffee dispense the madness from the others.
After a time, she came with a red face, like had cried. In reality she went to take a shower and came with short clothes. She is like a necklace using a voal tissue. She insists on manipulating me, what can I do? It is getting complex, she wants to play, she wants to impose her condition, she wants to put me out of question.
The papers are on the table, must be twenty pages, it is simple, she should only assign it, nothing more.
I wait, since I entered here I wait for her to take a pen and resolve it. I just told her by phone from my office that she needs to accept the contract, do not think about it, the apartment is now yours, the owner practically gave her this place. Is not a great thing but it is an excellent place. She does not tell her about the conditions that are very little expensive.
I learned with my father that in these cases we should wait, wait until fall card parking and a last act to be done.
She is now leaning over the hall table in a position that shows me an intent that she doesn't have a minimal conscience from what she is doing.
I remember that my mother had reading about spy cases, on that these treated about Matahary, a beautiful rusian spy girl that used of sensualistic ways to stay near people that could to inform something. My mother from this reading did the same with my father, she leaned over a dinner table pretending to try taking a drink cup with snake movement and sensual voice with rusian accent. He smiled at me from the theatre that she did.
My Mom was a tall woman, with a gross mouth, curly long hair in a body black and dancing. Mother's voice was like a mezzo soprano, sweet and velvety. One day I went to assist her in an intervention about a case that she, a good barrister defended, I saw that she used something like Matahari's gesture, a little, but I can see. I told my father about it and he touched my shoulder smiling.
Now, it is the same. So, before I lose this performance, I wait. It is a comic, a comedy, no one can see this, it is a show for the public that is only me. It is a privilege.
I ask only why a hoarse voice that gives the intention that she was with someone in bed for a minute? Voice from who woke a little while ago. Lewd movements, lazy arms, abandoned, why? Thinking good, I think that it is something that came from advertising washing powder soap. From Matahari it is not, I know, I know by proper experience that's not.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1042408
