viernes, 19 de noviembre de 2010

Looking at Death's Eyes

He held Death by the hand. I saw him as I crossed the street, and he seemed quite comfortable. He was just standing there, on the side of the road, holding Death with his hand. He even looked normal (at least that's what he and the other by-passers thought, I believe). He even dared look her in the eyes. He fucking looked at Death's eyes, and it was nothing out of the ordinary, he felt nothing special.
I kept on walking normally. Fuck, no, sorry. I'll correct myself: I tried to keep on walking as I usually do, but I couldn't help staring at them for a while. I peeked over my shoulder, wanting to make sure it really was there. Like fuck she was. I'll be damned, but it really was her. Death was being held tightly by him. I'm not sure whether she also held him. I believe she didn't, she's such a user, Death.
The problem is that we're not used to seeing her step out of her realm, and into ours. At least not in broad daylight and without her charms. Death has rebelled to the natural order of things. I thought she and Life had a treaty.
"Oh, but I do, " she'd probably tell me, "and we respect it very well. It's just that Life can't cope with her own problems and every once in a while, she needs my help, so I step in to get rid of the scum."
"But that's awful, " I would answer.
"It may seem awful to you, but it's just how things work. Life cannot carry certain verbs, so I help her; I decrease her load by carrying some of it myself. The difference between Life and me, is that she recycles, whereas I take the trash directly to the dump, I don't have time for fooling around and saving what you guys already decided is worthless; I trust your judgement there, if you see what I mean. If humanity doesn't like the way I do things and tried to understand Life and Death, I probably wouldn't have to work those extra hours. Alas, I am here and must do my work."
So I just kept on walking, got on my Jeep, played some tunes, and drove home. I didn't look back to where Death stood. Death is in town. Beware, for she'll do her job without taking any vacations.

lunes, 8 de noviembre de 2010

I saw you

I saw you the other day. You looked happy; at least I thought so. I really hope you are. I am happy for you. Nevertheless, I did get a weird feeling at first. The thoughts of a similar story with a different character is indeed a bit strange to me.

I don't know what would (have) happen(ed) if I (had) really see(n) you again. Perhaps I would (have) throw(n) up or cry(ied); or perhaps I would (have) smile(d), give(n) you a hug, and wish(ed) you luck and happiness. After all, that's what we both found a long time ago, when dinosaurs walked the Earth, which was cleaner and purer. We even found it, hidden in lands that were then unfound.
What did I do right? You're the only one who knows, and I would really appreciate it if you told me. It's fucking killing me; I want to do it again, whatever it was. I want to be right once again.

Auf Wiedersehen, noch einmal. Aber sag mir, bitte, was habe ich gut gemacht?