Dear friends,

XeXu, in his blog, began a story about three old friends -two boys and a girl- who meet and talk about their lives. Carme wrote the next part from each one of the characters’ point of view. Assumpta went on decorating it and Rits had her turn too. When Carme suggested me to partake, I felt delighted and got started at once. Just to make it a bit more familiar to you, here are the links to follow the story until my part that, as you will see, is also open to anyone else’s imagination…

APARENCES I. XeXu: The beginning.

APARENCES II. Carme. El noi despentinat de les ulleres (The hair in a mess, glasses-wearing boy).

APARENCES II. Carme. Ella (She).

APARENCES II. Carme. El noi alt i guapo (The tall handsome boy).

APARENCES III. Assumpta. Lídia, Miquel, Toni.

APARENCES IV. Rits. Saül Benet.

My part:

APARENCES V: L’ALBERT.

L’Albert va deixar el mòbil sobre la taula, satisfet. S’hi va pensar i va arrodonir l’obra: el va apagar. El Toni havia comès un error de passerell enviant-li l’sms que havia escrit per a algú altre. Ara havia pogut fer-se l’ofès i el tindria als seus peus. No creia que li fes el salt en absolut; el Toni era el típic noi amb identitat sexual per definir que acabava de descobrir el plaer del mateix sexe: no acostumaven a canviar de joguina de seguida, i ell, que el coneixia bé, havia sabut fer-se imprescindible. Acabar-lo de collar amb un missatge havia estat un regal inesperat, com haver aconseguit festa del gimnàs aquella tarda.

Per celebrar-ho, va sortir al carrer. Li agradava viure a Ciutat vella, perdre’s pel carrer Comtal o pel Portal de l’Àngel i observar la multitud. La feineta com a monitor li havia esmolat encara més els sentits: sabia com tractar i com utilitzar tothom, i no se n’estava. La natura l’havia fet tan atractiu per als homes com per a les dones, i no se n’estava.

Quan va començar a anar al gimnàs, el Toni tenia tot l’aspecte de portar temps a la gossera demanant adopció. Un matrimoni infeliç, unes mirades significatives quan es tocaven… Treballava a una de les primeres multinacionals del país, sospitosa d’escàndols financers. Les notícies vetades pel Gabinet de Premsa de l’empresa eren la targeta de presentació que l’Albert necessitava per tenir les portes obertes d’algun diari important. Ja era hora que comencés a exercir el periodisme, seria dels implacables i agressius. Mentre era al llit amb en Toni no podia deixar de pensar-hi. No li va ser difícil convèncer-lo per fer desaparèixer uns quants papers. Ara només calia esperar un temps, engegar-lo a pastar fang i fer servir la informació.

Va anar a parar a una petita granja i es va permetre demanar un suís. Ja faria després una taula sencera d’abdominals. Òndia! A la taula del fons hi havia la noia d’ulls castanys que anava de tant a tant a fer bicicleta! Sempre li havia agradat, tenia un bon cos i una mirada molt bonica. Ella ni se’l mirava quan entrava, sempre amb presses, a la sala del costat. Estava amb un noi d’aspecte tímid. “La típica rata de biblioteca quatre-ulls amb el cap esbullat que desperta l’instint maternal”, va pensar, envejós del lloc que ocupava, al davant de la noia. També va decidir que, de moment, ella no era un bon objectiu: es mirava el quatre-ulls amb massa adoració. “No siguis carallot”, va pensar. “No és només això, és una noia forta. Tu només saps treure profit de les debilitats.”

Aquesta idea el va deprimir una mica, però només un instant. Va desviar el pensament cap al director del gimnàs. Quines ganes tenia de dir-li que plegava! Era un imbècil que es pensava que una cadena de gimnasos el farien menys imbècil. Almenys li devia donar una bellesa irresistible, perquè l’última xicota era de bandera. Lídia, li semblava que es deia. L’amo l’havia col·locada a les oficines, a l’altra banda de la ciutat, i cada tarda, quan el venia a buscar, feia una mica d’exercici. Era la reina de l’aeròbic de les vuit. A l’Albert se li va il·luminar la cara. Quan deixés el gimnàs, la Lídia seria un objectiu perfecte. Era evident que no era feliç. Se la prendria a l’amo i se l’enduria al llit amb qualsevol promesa de vida nova. Segur que ella ho estava desitjant.

Ben mirat, no podia renegar del gimnàs. Li havia proporcionat prou satisfaccions, tot i que marxar seria la més gran. Potser només ho sentia per un paio: en Saül. El molt criatura deia que era representant de perfumeria, sense saber que fins i tot l’olor que feia era de detectiu privat. Ara el tenia content perquè havia aconseguit perdre una mica de panxa. Tan patètic que feia llàstima. Tot un perdedor al que no li convenia perdre de vista, potser li seria útil algun dia. Que li agradessin les dones era un petit problema, però ja trobaria ell algun fil d’on estirar.

Gairebé se li va escapar un crit quan va veure l’hora. El Toni ja devia haver arribat, entristit i submís. Li quedava la segona part de la representació, a casa. L’Albert es va aixecar, va pagar, va passar pel costat de la parelleta empalagosa i va enfilar el camí. Quant de temps continuaria fingint amb en Toni? No seria gaire, no volia veure’s embolicat en res. Li havia dit que la exdona era molt gelosa, i a la molt mala pècora no li seria difícil trobar un perdedor com el Saül per fer escudella de draps bruts…

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This time there’s also a catalan and spanish version.

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Oct

14
' '

Queen of the night.

• This day in History:

  

They would never fool him again, but that night it was a little late to play the macho part. The Ribeira Club was full of sensual sticky girls. His laughing friends, who had taken him there as a challenge for his virility, had already run away, but he did not remember how nor when. A blood test would have revealed that Salvador could live with pure whisky running in his veins.

Due to his clouded sight, he was only able to distinguish the girls’ curves as a garment of the highly colored landscape of lights and exuberance. They knew exactly how to use their tongues and kissed him once and again, while suggesting activities for the hours to come. He tried to look indifferent, in order not to let them know he was failing to keep his balance.

Would his friends see him act with such dignity, they would definitely not laugh at him the way they used to.

He thought it wise to drive home while he still remembered how he was called and where he lived, trusting in his good driver sense and praying not to find any breath test on the way. There was a good thing about that all: she was too drunk to be scared. So drunk he did not even notice he had not left that pleasure self-service alone. Of course, he did not even notice she letting herself rock smoothly on the back seat of the car all the while. He did not notice that she got out of the car with him nor that she had climbed the stairs behind him. He managed to close the door without looking at it, just with a clumsier than usual tap of his heel. She was already in.

He was home at last, still on his feet and able to think a little. He had won. Now what was it he needed so much…? Ah, yes!

He went to the toilet mechanically and pissed as if he hadn’t done it for a month. The bedroom was nearby. He went there with vacillating steps. He could not stand the heat. This air conditioned is bullshit! -he thought, unaware of the fact that he was trying to turn it on with his mobile phone-. He tore his clothes off and fell on the bed downwards in all his length, with a groan tat climbed his throat from the very pit of his stomach.

In the meantime, she had made her own analysis about the eccentric single’s little flat. Kitchen and living-room shared room, canvas chairs and non-curtained windows. No pictures, one mirror, two turtles, three cinema posters, four old videotapes and DVD armies that filled a few shelves.

There was only one more room apart from the bedroom: a little study where all books evicted by the DVD were having a good time and more DVD lied, all of them presided by such a clean Mac that it even gleamed with the light of the room at the front.

It was a long time since he had been heard. She went to the bedroom silently, as she used to. That masculine naked body was a real paradise. Even backwards, the penis sticked out between the two half-open legs. They already had two things in common: she was wearing no clothes and while she approached, something also longer than usual, aroused by instinct, approached with… her?

No, they did not always speak about her in feminine.

Was that sleeping soft-buttocked guy anything but an invitation? Well, nobody would pay her for the job, but at least she would not miss the opportunity to help herself. When she sticked it deep inside, the man moved only a little, then nothing. Maybe he was used to it, after all.

She entered, felt the warmth of the body and let herself go at the same time. Salva, that got flooded, was courting for a really unpleasant awakening full of nasty discoveries. She had done a thorough job but was not still satisfied. You must never miss the sucking part. She started rhythmically, non-stop, with little movements at first, more intensely afterwards. Those fluid exchanges drove her crazy.

He, still uncounscious, looked as if he wanted to react. Turned upwards suddenly and upwards he remained, with open arms and legs.

And there, squashed under Salvador’s ass, she died, the last and more voracious tiger mosquito of the season in the Baix Llobregat.

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Sep

29
' '

Amor jove (Young love) (and IV): Night rest.

• This day in History:

  

Venc un somni. Té puntes perfumades
i l’aire de les coses impossibles.
És lleuger i trencadís perquè l’enyorin
i deixa pols d’estel a les parpelles.
Quant en vull? Un sospir, una paraula,
un batec de debò que em faci caure
retalls d’eternitat a dins dels braços.
Vull que sigui de l’ànima més dolça.
Però no pot ser teu, i l’has fet viure.
Oferir-te aquest fruit del teu viatge
fóra tornar la flaire a les violes,
tot l’or a un bosc de tarda de novembre
i al meu adéu les llàgrimes que vesso.
Han estat l’únic preu, i ara són teves.
Avui respiro encara amb un somriure,
hoste d’aquell record. Saps una cosa?
Mai no m’has vist els ulls tan plens d’estrelles.

 

 

 

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Sep

26
' '

Amor jove (Young love) (III of IV): Evening revery.

• This day in History:

  

Tinc horitzons de noves matinades
perquè m’he imaginat que el temps t’acosta.
Llegir el llibre que escrius sense saber-ho
és l’únic despertar que necessito.
Si cal, amb el gest tendre que t’amago
tombaré el darrer full mentre t’allunyes.

 

 

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Sep

23
' '

Amor jove (Young love) (II of IV): Brightness of day.

• This day in History:

  

Que un món sencer de sensació infinita
pugui cabre en el frec d’una mà fràgil…!
Quin món de plenitud inexplicable
en un segon de càlida presència,
i quin pou de “per quès” sense resposta
en un esguard ple de colors que llisquen!
Tindria el gran secret i el canviaria
pel desig que sovint tant et pressento.
Voltada pel capvespre del misteri
nego els sentits als fets que van i vénen
gronxant-me en els sospirs que compartíem,
ales que em vas fer néixer a la cintura.

 

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