Ella dice que no me ama pero disfruta mi compañía. Caminamos en las tardes al salir del trabajo y me cuenta historias del pasado. Nos reímos juntos, ella y yo, viendo ponerse el sol detrás de las montañas artificiales de basura. La ciudad nos concede regalos extraños en tiempos de hastío. Cuando es hora de volver, regresamos. Ella se despide con un beso en la mejilla y se marcha a casa. Yo hago lo mismo mientras la veo alejarse calle abajo. La montaña artificial de basura se la va tragando poco a poco como una anaconda engulle un ratón que se sabe ya vencido. Entonces me quedo ahí, en silencio, contemplando el espectáculo convencido de ser feliz. Ella dice que no me ama, pero disfruta mi compañía.
By Michael Sixto
It happens suddenly, almost without realizing it happens. The favorite song is playing on the car radio a minute before arriving, and today we cannot wait. Today we are on the run. As usual, people in the office greet us with a grin that tries to be a greeting. We return the same face and keep on walking. Almost no time, so we’ve been led to believe. The sunlight has been confined outside segregated from this artificial white light. We’re here. The song remains a prisoner in the head that tries not to think. Thinking is not always good; we already knew. It happens suddenly. A memory drags another memory and a melody guides the next one. It’s like a game of riddles. The correct answer opens the door and moves you to the next level. That’s the idea: get there. And it’s ironic because by “getting there” we have left everything behind. Laura, the squalid secretary, tells of his son’s achievements in school and how smart he is. While talking, the hair gets in her mouth and her eyes vanish in the distance, as if trying to escape a memory. It happens like this, and as more repetitive as it sounds, is the only way it’s always been. The old lady who collects the trash barely moves her lips, and when she does she ends up talking about dead things, or some others that are about to die. But we feel safe; safe of being alive while fulfilling our destiny; safe of having a plan. Hours pass by devouring anxiety, fatigue, and despair. Time pass by while giving us to eat. We are now older, or wiser, if that’s worth walking this route. And along the way we discovered that there is no secret, no purpose, and no clear objective. Thus we understand what it’s like. And it happens so suddenly, almost without realizing it happens.