The Escort

It was a hot summer day, the sun floundering every terrace with its burning waves. I was with Sam, at his terrace, playing with those plastic tubes that spread water everywhere as we squeeze them. It was among the happiest moments of my summer vacation, which was not that long, for it was only two Sundays a month, the rest was at the daunting and exhausting mill of my master or patron.

Sam and I were bond by a sturdy friendship crowned with the innocence of the early childhood that I miss greatly. We were happy in our little emulations, where I used to let him win so that I reap the happiness of seeing him jumping with joy.

The day went on smoothly until the crepuscule showed its majestic colors throughout the calm sky. We were playing with a lot of tiny toys, keeping it real in our little imaginary world. We used to bring to life all the cartoon characters that we saw at television, even though we saw them separately, him at home, and me in the archaic coffee shop where I "drove by" to essentially watch the cartoon, sell retail cigarettes, and expect the owner's wife to give me some cookies or an apple.

As the Sunset Prayer Call echoed in the air, I kissed my friend in the forehead and rushed to the staircase, hoping for the millionth time that my dear father wouldn't, by me being late, erase the few holly verses that still hang in my head.

My daily ritual was to run at the train station and watch passengers get in or get out this titanic machine that makes a noise I listen to like a dilettante enjoys a beautiful symphony. But the real purpose of me being there is to wait for her to come out the train, as she has been doing every day at 6pm. Her name was Sara, a pretty fictional name that we recourse to in a lot of novels an...

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...t her as soon as she arrives from her work. She was an escort by the way. and I did, Sam was with me, he told me she kissed that ugly guy and that she let him grab her tits, he saw all that from the window of the terrace. So when I saw her, I run to her and shook her dress, she turned to see who. "Do you want to buy a cigarette madam? Please madam they are good, I haven't bought any today". I was sweating, and she pushed me with disgust, and continued her way.

My best friend was laughing like crazy. I returned to him, with a little tear in my dirty eye. That was the only time I spoke to her, and I have never been the most important man in her life. I always slept with her in my fantasies.

It's hard to imagine that we can be animals by so wanting meat and at the same time be ingenious and creative to come up in the mind with great scenarios just to get this meat.