was long but I was dragging the urge to write.
light comes from the window. It's just a rectangular window should be the laundry, judging by the clothes hanging rope outside, and which barely fit a pair of socks and a shirt. The light just turned off. My sister on the phone and sits facing the balcony. Always speaking his face split into two halves, first part of the mouth, active and wet, forming the words clearly so that they enter, one by one, in the handset, and another his eyes, after spinning around the room, stay fixed at some point in the exterior, as if they were away from the chain of speech that occurs a few centimeters own. The nose part, in any way, on both sides, straight, hard up, going down to become agile, widens when taking the air and relaxes when released, following the movement of the mouth and letting sound out. It seems unreal all that it says my sister because she is on the other hand, there but elsewhere, will not yet known what, as it leaves the couple and even eloquent speech as short stays suspended on the apparatus, as in those moments between the end of a musical work and the avalanche of applause, where the past still resonate notes and even musicians hold their instruments as if they were to continue, and remains, and then unifies the face, so say, and communication is restored between the two parties.
From here I hear someone cut vegetables on wooden board. Is a constant sound breaks the silence and occasionally is interrupted by another, which I assume is the sound when you move the knife blade over the wood, sweeping up the pieces cut, so they fall on a plate. I think theater, the falling knife again and again, someone pretending to cut. Carrots may be invisible, also the plate. The important thing is to note that there is a presence, someone who cut with a knife and consistently hitting a table. The display says that someone, another with a knife, and and cutting a zucchini invisible could also do something else. However, in the house, the possible meanings are reduced. Julian is certainly something biting or cutting cheese. Is slow to do things in the house, is distracted. However, when you bring the table with the cheese or bits of what you are cutting, you know that was him because every piece is perfect, not bigger or smaller than the other, and together form an orderly architecture. Place the table in the center of the coffee table, under the spotlight, and we will see, without waiting for approval or gratitude, just stepping up, with his eyes, which is already evident. After will sink into the couch and say she's not hungry, waiting for him elsewhere, but will stay a good while and end up eating even more than us, always taking the bits that are closer to the edge of the table, leaving the center of the cheese house, bored, unchanged. We sat
always more or less the same, but rozándonos inadvertently disturb us. My sister supports his left knee on the leg of Julian and he supports the principle pain because you laugh, then you take the knee and makes a gesture of reverence, he passes a hand underneath and hold it in the air. Among the hollow of his palm and the hollow of the back of the knee to form a both feel warm air. Julian shows me knee and I approve. After gently downward to attach to his right knee. My sister laughs and becomes the victim. Run to sit beside me and stared. It is more or less always the same sequence, only changing the characters and body parts involved.
The light has again turned on, a hand snaps open and free clothing. The arm stretches to reach it. Is illuminated by the yellow bulb located at the top of the window. A moment is suspended and then resumed the task. At the end are six plastic clips of different colors and the string moves by the recent activity. The hand is no longer but the light continues on. I wait in vain for something to happen because I know it is over the window function. Julian hugs me from behind. It is held balanced on the tip of his feet as his knees, and breathe on my neck. I smell and forward his head to his chest, towards the base of the neck where two bones lie down horizontally. Always attract attention and goes to the little hole that forms in the middle, holding two fingers of his right hand and slowly sinks while I kiss the face of the other side. I demand to do nothing until you turn off the light again. It is an instant decision while necessary, is to be inside and out. Julian loses his balance and feel of your body weight on my back. I do not know why I come to mind a picture of the beach at seven in the evening, the arena stood a blue or gray gnats that were hovering six inches of soil and soon returned to the sand almost in a tailspin, and the movement were little holes that were closed as the body of the flies are going deeper into the soil. Then if you look carefully, could be distinguished from the wings between the grains of sand and a tiny movement of food work. My sister's theory was that there still flies, insects that live below ever would not rise to the surface, and therefore simulated a withdrawal and remained flying overhead, "as if "they had gone, but then returned and attacked the little things that have risen to fresh air. I tormented the life of the band flies out just eight inches, ten up to the maximum of ten down, where they lived their prey, and the limbo of sand where they slept.
Julian knows that distracted me, but does so in spite of me. I close my eyes and anticipate the places you pass on your hands, gradually increasing breathing, profanity not tell me or tell me later when they do not cause any effect. We know everything in advance and even a slight change bother us, is like something forced, a pose. I stop and I demand to do nothing until the light turns off the rectangular window of the building opposite. The hand clothes wisely released the clips should have turned off the light, it would have closed in a more blatant, rampant image of the window. Julian kisses my neck and slowly opens her legs. With his free hand up my shirt and her bra. I think it starts to miss my lack of reaction. Try turning me but can not, I stand looking out the window. Does not insist and stays a few seconds behind me, not knowing what to do. I know, but not looking, the face which is almost touching my hair but as if we were to great distance and suddenly we started to yell in unknown languages. I come then another image, this time not because we have lived, but because it is inevitable. We're both in the bathtub, staring, the water is half cold and soap crust has formed on the surface around us the body and unwinds in islets. Below the water is more dense and retains a bit of heat. If at first you just enter the two in the bathtub and is impossible not to rub the legs even though we sit in each of the ends, then we have plenty of water, we have plenty of space and time. The tub is expanding and we are getting further away until they see each other again. It is an image, nothing more, tell me which is an image and even trite and Frida Kahlo to Australian film and how much more art film. However, in the bathtub Julian has the same face that now stands on his neck stiff and alert, and that comes to my hair and out to my face. Is or was the same face as kiss and play with his left hand, though not necessarily sustainable, just because I like it. Back then to separate the legs, now every movement is precise and is a gesture of affirmation or conquest, a way to go erasing the face you left behind, still beating against my hair. Neither the hair emerges window or anything, the light on my head, snaps on face and hand of Julian that opens up and removes her panties aside and goes, first with one finger, then two and stays a few seconds, feeling the moisture that grows and fills the hand of a thick, warm aura.
Never mind that the hand has gone out the window, perhaps to control the temperature of the night, or exercising a greeting vague, nothing, air. The light turns off. On my body body naked Julian, afternoon, and restarts. There was a moment of not knowing, and perhaps that is now being penetrated me without knowing where or how your face has become tangled in my hair. What is known is the logic of motion, heat and sweat, the pain rising from behind and persists as long as he or I are looking for a fund that could be reached. The light from the window lights. Would be perverse to continue the game would be like to drown end face is back there, between the pillow and my head, like a ghost who speaks in another language and yells while Julian up there, lost in his own pleasure. I think, how far we are from the other when everyone is preoccupied, at the foot of the abyss and falling, each one, so alone. The hand extends a wet towel, open one of the snaps and hangs from one end, also takes half and hang them to finish quickly to accommodate the other loose end of the towel. We are, however, as far as when we push with the knee or elbows on the coffee table. I mean, Julian completed and is still in a few seconds. Thus, with its relatively large body, it nevertheless seems a spider just died. I'm relaxed. I finish taking off my clothes I had been misplaced and I run to the driest place on the bed.
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