Sunday 1 February 2009

Cucumbers (sept 2003)

She was crawling slowly on the wall, very bored.

Her thought of leaving remained somewhere down on the floor, next to a murdered hope. There were no cucumbers left, and this caused her a dreadful pain, underneath her fingernails and in her joints. She looked carefully through the wall, to check if there were no cucumbers in reach of her foot. But there were only some flowers that pretended to sleep and an old lady with a big nose, tilted to the right.
She crawled a bit more until she reached the lamp, unscrewed the light bulb to see where she had forgotten her thought. She saw a piece of thought on the floor, something related to calling her mother, sitting behind a box in which cleaning was and, next to it, the thought to leave. She tried to catch him with the help of the thought to go down, but he was small and slippery, because of the saliva. She jumped a bit, trying to budge him from the crack in which he had hidden, because it was a hidden thought.
She picked up a cigarette from the ashtray and lit it. She slowly blew the smoke so she wouldn't make it weary. The smoke, expanding in circles, stuck to the window; it was probably look
ing for heat to regenerate and make little offspring. It also tried to get back in the cigarette, but there was so little room and it smelled like tobacco. "My ass" said the smoke. And it started to strangle the girl, very slowly; it banged her head on the walls a bit, and the little thought got frightened at the idea that he could loose its home. He quickly made up a sword and a shield and got ready for battle. He was proud because he was fighting for an idea, and not for the sake of the corpses.
"Hey you, smokey! I'm gonna cut you in ways you can't imagine, bless your little circles..."
And he looked at it from above like he was looking through it. The smoke let go of the girl who continued with the choking out of inertia.
And they fought for a day, and they fought for two days, and th
ey fought for ninety-nine days. The little thought came up with something else and finally managed to place the smoke in the cleaning box.
“I knew I fought dirty", he laughed to himself.
He paused, satisfied, and decided to go home because it was Tuesday.
He gave a glutinous kick to the throat, which was already purple from the choking and he invented a door through which he went inside the house.
Because the thought of leaving had come to her, the girl picked up her slippers and went out the window. In five minutes she remembered she was supposed to get out through the door and she came back.
And she went out through the door.


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