A girl behind the counter of a bar. Collects orders, serving coffee and hands it to unknown hands brioche. I never look at who is serving. Always look beyond the customer, beyond, beyond the bay window overlooking the street, life flowing out there. People going, that is, observing them for those few seconds that pass in front of the screen, which is the glass. Then they disappear.
A boy wakes up in his bed. Smell of air consumed. And tired. He opens his eyes and is conscious of living. Stay a few seconds lying in the dark. Then he gets up. Goes to the window, opens it and pulls up the shutter. The light penetrates into the car's squinting eyes instinctively. He looks down, reopen Plan your eyes, and looks out. It 's still dark.
goes to the bathroom, gets dressed and goes home.
That guy goes out every morning from his home in the hills, the road salt, a few hundred yards until the road ends. Before him the top of the hill. The guy takes a breath, and goes down the path, if one can call it. Arrived at the top, remains motionless, like every morning. A faint glow began to spread. Do not move even a second look. And here, finally, check, plain, timid and uncertain over the sea, calm sea beyond that, it becomes increasingly clear to dark. The sun. Sale softly, almost imperceptibly, and the boy never stops to watch. Until it came out all right when he sees the orange ball in its entirety, and now secure it almost hurts.
then descends slowly. Reaching down in front of his house. Not go in, pulls out of pocket for the car keys. Salt, and partly down, towards the city.
Every morning, more or less the same time, after a couple of hours that began serving coffee and croissants, the girl sees a boy who enters the door cautiously transparent. Sign in with his head down, then lifts his head and she smiles. He smiles too. Then comes forward, leans against the counter with an elbow and asks every morning as a cup of milk and a donut. He drinks all the milk in two gulps, then begins to eat the donut, watching the TV.
She did not say anything, but looks at him, and his eyes no longer look over, do not indicate a more unknown beyond the bar, but are fixed on him. When he finished and thanked pays, and walks away with a quick pace, once again, lowering his head, holding it so crossing the door until a few yards away, when it disappears from the screen, which is the window of the bar.
Every night she comes home. Opens the door, calling her lazy dog \u200b\u200barrives, without barking. Laying the bag on a table, opens the refrigerator, fill the bowl of the dog and puts it on the ground. Then go to the bathroom, there remains a long time, and when it comes out more pure, no tricks, wrapped in her cotton pajamas. Prepare dinner and then sit on the couch, turn on the television, and begins to eat. But do not watch the news or some soap opera. Look elsewhere, beyond the white wall where they hung wet, framed like paintings, his memories, in the form of photos, and breathes.
The boy comes home every night. No cooking. He bought something out. A sandwich, pasta ready, the meat already cooked. It takes a shower, sink into the chair and eat, listening to Chopin. Think of his day. His mind takes him to the girl who serves him breakfast every morning. It 's a pretty girl, has more or less his age. Who knows who he is, what it's called, what does that job well, if ... then, tired, falls asleep.
One morning something happens. The guy enters the bar with his head down, the bartender smiles, he leans against the counter and order. She hands him the ring and supports the cup of milk on the counter while he, who had turned to the TV, turns, and his elbow hits the cup, which is not down, but is splashed away, runs along the bar towards the board.
will fall?
might. Then she will look at the embarrassed boy, come out from behind the counter with a rag and start cleaning.
"Excuse me!" He says.
"Do not worry. It does not matter " tell her, without looking at him, continuing to clean.
"Really sorry that is turning around ..."
"No problem, really!"
It raises the neck, look at him, looks into his eyes.
something happened. It is not a simple exchange of glances. It 'a force that binds two people. A force that stuns intense, that clouds, which enchants.
Her lips make an almost imperceptible motion, but changes his expression, they widen. Now she almost smiles. His gaze remains in communication with the boy, but is softer, weaker, and in those eyes there's a question: "Love me."
The boy is bewildered, and in his eyes, there is something. It is not exactly a question, is something that comes out from within, from the bottom, a need, a desperate cry: "Love me."
Then she will raise it in the trash throwing the remains of the cup, preparing another to his young client and beginning a dialogue with him that will never end anymore.
Instead cup stops right on the edge of the bar, hangs in the balance, is about to fall, when the guy grabs the door quickly and at the mouth. He drinks, eats his cake, and pay thanks goes crossing the door with his head down.
The girl looks out from the screen, which is the window of the bar.
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