Fever

Hallucinating in the office, saying yes to everything his boss asks for and forgetting all the orders, licking the papers in his hands and looking to Eisenstein defecating in the middle of the reunion room, above the table, he asks to his colleagues if they’re not smelling something ominous. No.

He can feel it, the torpor going up inside his nostrils until his cerebellum, activating his animal instincts. He wants to grab the feet of the secretary and sucking’ her toes, but he go to the bathroom and lay down in the floor, privy aside.

He feels like had just take a nap for one minute, but after one hour and a half few people notice his disappearance and the production manager found him in the bathroom. They thought that he passed out and took him to hospital. Luckily, the resident doctor dated his sister a long time ago and lied to everyone: the bastard just had fever due to an earache and infection.

S’n’f

Julia was tired of hearing her MP4 at the pool. She is sick of that list of music, 60 gigas are nothing. So, after a good bath, she leaves for the shopping center to buy a MP5 in her uncle’s electronic store. But, before Julia could reach the shop, Albert stopped her at the coffee house. The shopping center internal cameras showed them leaving the place together.

In that afternoon, so tedious, Julia can’t imagine to have so much fun. She dropped Albert five years ago and he improved a lot. Sweating and howling like a she-wolf, Julia was strangulated when she was coming. First she thought it was just an S&M tactic to make she come harder, as he did in the past. She died confused.

Julia humiliated Albert’s father, Hugo, three years ago. She despised him as an old fart after he bought a Hummer to her. Albert had good times with her in his bed, but he can’t stand the rejection. And he was broke. She died without knowing about Hugo’s suicide after depression and Albert’s kinship with him. Albert was arrested and his image was on television, but he doesn’t give a fuck. The fuck that he wanted was revenge.

Nilky

Gillian was pregnant when Josh died from a stroke. He never signed a life insurance and left her jobless with two other kids, besides the upcoming baby. She started to beg for food and medicines in churches, ashamed of asking for more help from his parents and relatives, who helped her with money, but it was not enough. They are poor too, all of them. This life is just a waste, she thought in one of these days, seeing her mother smiling. Brenda was an upbeat person; always told their children how marvelous life is, but now Gillian feel betrayed by optimism. Thomas starves playing with the PS2, but he forgot the hunger because of the games. Jena was older and Gillian was afraid of the boys harassing her. Jena always wants this and that, and terrifying things pass through Gillian’s mind when she starts to imagine the perspectives of the teenager Jena. Gillian felt that future she fears for Jena must be her present now to avoid the worst.

Gillian knew what to do since she was organizing Josh’s stuff to sell what could be dispensable and profitable. She found a XXX magazine with an ad asking pregnant women to auditioning for a new production by the Bellyman. She knew instantly that will prevent Jena to do the same in a near future. She knew. Josh left her without good options, since she is an unskilled worker. If he just saves the money in a savings account for the children instead of buying tons of porn…

Gillian will get revenge. And she needs to do it. She adopts a bold approach. Gillian traveled alone for the audition and made a daring proposal for Bellyman: she will not permit him to shot or frame her face. Instead, she will wear a mask, and the movie will contain the catch phrase: “Is this your pregnant wife? Checks a real treason caught on tape”. He became excited with the idea and with her.

Life is dirt. Most of the guys thought something like that when they saw the DVD on the shelves. But a lot of them rented the film and masturbated when watched it. Nobody never ever had seen Gillian naked, except for Josh and her parents when she was a little brat. She was extremely nervous about her body to permit doctors or parents to see her naked since she gained breasts. Their relatives were too puritan too. Nobody recognized her, she gained a little with the movie and a lot with the following titles and, most important of all, came with the Bellyman and the all the other guys in every shot. Bellyman even married with Gillian to convince her to be pregnant again. Both got rich enough with the last installment (propelled by the slogan “the treason wasn’t discovered and she is pregnant again”), so after the storm they just dedicate themselves to produce their new series of movies “Tasmanian She-devils”. Gillian told to her kids that she is a movie producer, but Jena figured out the truth when she recognized a younger Bernardo as the Bellyman in an old VHS in her boyfriend’s bedroom and looked out for more recent DVDs. Now Jena is planning to do S&M movies with a mask before 18 years old, in Traci Lords fashion. Thinking about it and sweating in bed, Jena dreamed with the series’ title: “The Real Urban Legend”.

Headache

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Headache

Goddamned splitting headache. In the traffic jam, the river flooding one street behind us, with nothing to read and I can’t listen to music because the radio is broken and I forgot my MP5 at the office. My eyes are burning in pain, so I can’t even look to the beautiful drops of rain flowing out the glass. The rain is so intense. Instead of worsen the headache; the noise begins to calm me down. Calm me down. Down the street, the water is flowing. People started to get out of their cars and run away. When the water begins to enter in my car – this cart is antediluvian – sincerely, I think: this is a good way to die. To lie in peace. But Dawkins was right. I don’t have kids, so some genes probably forced me to open the glass. The cars packed in the street was levitating in water, hitting each other. People are crying, some of them talking in mobiles, desesperately jumping on the roofs of their cars. I just come through the door, the water almost entering in above it, and launch me over a pickup truck bonnet. So I jumped in the roof of a Minicar which is dragging down by the stream and, quickly, I jumped into a tree. After all these years, I realized that climbing all those trees in school was more important than learn biology. Hugging a massive branch like a lover, one of that idealized lovers who save our lives even if they’re despised, I watched people and cars and trash and tears going down in a choleric tributary to the new avenue. It took only about four minutes to happen. The Sims players who grew up into engineers and reached the power probably programmed a population control here. Two hours later, redeemed by the firemen like a frightened cat, a nurse who appears to be a lovely grandma helps me and warm me with a blank. The headache was gone, but few days later, I found that I cached a leptospirosis.

At home

At Home

Looking towards the window, the leaves and flowers of the old tree shaking gently with the wind, he thinks how warmly this bedroom could be in the afternoon. His nephew and Sarah, his daughter, came upwards and kiss his cheeks, one at each side, when he bends over, calling his name and jumping all over with dirty hands of chocolate. They don’t know what happened. They’ll just get acknowledgement of the incident more than a decade after that night.

Just before a shower, he told to his mother what happened. She becomes angrier because he leaved the hospital without telling her. Grandma, grandma, can we eat some cookies with milk? Worried about the children, as always, she looks at him with a recognizable face that means “We will talk later” and he just says OK. This tacit truce gave him some peace, at last, in the end of that long day.

After the bath, he laid down in his bed, turned on the TV and the children sited down using his torso as a back rest, happy to be around so late watching the news with him. When the report about the flood was screened, none of the three understood what happened, even paying much attention to it. He slept with Sarah and Paul the nephew fighting for a Spider Man comic book above him.

Marksman

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Marksman

He became to be a degenerated bastard. That what he wasn’t meant to be, but it happened. Cutting ants’ wings, burning them, throwing salt in snails and smiling in the sun, he looks like a typical old school sadistic child. But he becomes gloomy when his mother, who was looking for him, found her son acting like the perfect jobless piece of shit that he became since he was put in temporary dismissal after torture a kid to death. That filmmaker from Brazil would make him look like a hero. But no, here the criminals should be arrested in a red carpet. After lunch, he went to the district, with the excuse that he must open his heart to his friends. After some small talk with his old colleagues, he was able to go inadvertent to the cells corridor. There, he shots everyone behind bars that he could. When his friends approached, Robert shot his own head. His last think was, like reassuring to himself: “Someday this gruesome immolation will be recognized as the first benign suicidal shooting in US”.

How Come?

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

How come?

It was in 1987. I was skateboarding down the hill with an old fella, Markus, when all of a sudden a car came out of nowhere and almost hit me. And I was ON the sidewalk. The driver abruptly maneuvers to enter in a garage. He didn’t stop and barely paid attention to me. It was like two minutes ago, the remembrance is clear and livid. Shaking, I rest against a wall for awhile. Markus is laughing; he’s still a jester and I miss the motherfucker, but he’ll move to North again and will live farther. Engineers are dispensable toys for their companies. Anyway, I don’t say a word and he stops to laugh, then he just say “Come on, it was nothing” and we stay seated in silence looking to the palm trees. Don’t know what he’s wandering about, but I’m thinking about suicide. It doesn’t make sense. If you are desperate, it’s better to live on the edge and have some fun; probably this is a better way to die. But I want to live. Skateboarding on the sidewalk wasn’t supposed to be perilous. Tremblingly, I decide to rise and pay attention to a funny and obnoxious noise, which is annoying me. It looks like someone gasping. Markus then perceives that I’m curious about something. “What are you doing?” he asks in a low voice, maybe foreseeing some kind of trickery in my behavior, but I was naive in my early teens. Paying attention too, gazing at his feet, suddenly he is all smiles. “People are getting laid right here”. Then he moves down, scale on a rock and find out a window slit, since that old houses are next to the pavement apparently to expand in big backyards. It doesn’t matter. He could see them, which are what counts. With gestures, Markus asks me to keep quiet and to wait a little. Then he step down and look into the street and look forward to me. It’s unbelievable. She is a pretty brunette, has big tits and long, black hair. The guy is a Neanderthal and I avoid looking into him. We couldn’t see the act per se, just the heads and the nude torsos. That bosom is looking at me. Markus protests and I get out, astonished. I wait three minutes and come back to ask to see HER again. Ten seconds later, I’m contemplating those beautiful breasts when she sees my eye and give me a smile. Smiling and looking at me, she collapses. “It’s over”, I say to Markus, but he refuses to believe in me and climb the rock again, just to see them put their clothes on.

Next day, on school, we were celebrities. We told everything to everyone, minus the fact that she knew about me. Nobody knows, neither Markus. They came back there, never saw anything at all anymore, but discovered her name, age, occupation and even the identity of that Neanderthal: he was a cop. Ashamed, I never returned to that street. I saw her one more time, in a supermarket. She was pregnant, self-confident, embraced with another guy and, of course, didn’t recognize me. A Goddess.