Sunday morning

  The first thing I noticed was the smell of his hair. It had notes of coconut and olive oil, but also a sweetness that I blamed not on a particular shampoo but on his very personal scent. As I woke up, I couldn’t see his face as his back was against my chest. But his smell was enough for me not to move too much and just enjoy the moment. It was then I realized no man had ever stayed all night in my house, let alone in my bed and with me by his side. I smiled, as I closed my eyes back and tried to enjoy the moment a little bit longer.

 I used to wake up early on Sundays, as it was the only day of the week I could actually spend in things that I couldn’t do any other day. I would go to the gym for about three hours, then come back home and clean the place up real good, get in the shower for a good ten minutes and finally head out to the supermarket and buy any groceries I would have any need for. After that, I would just go back home, put everything in order, cook something fast and put on a movie, possibly one that I had already seen numerous times.

 But that Sunday, I wouldn’t be able to do the same thing. He was there and I wouldn’t like to be the kind of person to kick someone out just after spending a night together. I wondered if I should stay there in bed with him or just go to the kitchen and make some breakfast. Maybe he would be in for some time at the gym… But I then thought that was a stupid idea because the point was probably to spend some time together. Although that would maybe send the wrong message and I didn’t want him to be confused about anything.

 He then moved around, in order to face me. He was still asleep, that was obvious. He proceeded to get closer to me and then go back to being still right next to my chest. I caressed his head a little bit, now that I could move my arm freely. He was really cute, something I had already noticed but never really appreciated in its entirety. His eyebrows were thick and very black and he had long and luxurious eyelashes. His eye color was brown. I knew that. A beautiful brown that almost seemed liquid caramel.

 I stayed there for a while, just caressing his hair and smelling that beautiful coconut scent. I had no idea what to do with him, except looking at his face and feeling his body. He was a bit shorter than me, which was odd because I had rarely met men shorter than me, and had never had a crush on one. But there he was, and I could feel his warmth and that was great. I hugged him, not to tight in order not to wake him up, and then kissed him in the forehead. It was just something I felt like doing at the moment, no idea really why I did it. It just felt right, like the perfect thing to do.

 He opened up his eyes and looked at me. He gently got himself to the same level and then kissed me. His lips tasted a bit like tequila, which we had drank the night before, but also like those sweet worms that come in colors and are covered with sugar. He reminded me of those, sweet and kind of sour too. We kissed for a long while, maybe almost half an hour. For a moment, I felt self-conscious about my looks so early in the day and my breath, but then just enjoyed the moment kissing a beautiful man in my bed.

 After our kissing session, we stayed there without talking a single word. I put my chest against the bed and he faced the ceiling, looking up as if he was appreciating the sky. We stayed like so for a long time, right until he got out of bed because he wanted to pee. I let him go and stayed there for a moment, realizing then that I was very hungry. We hadn’t had anything to eat the night before; we only drank like sailors and had some peanuts, which really wasn’t any kind of substitute for real food.

 So I stood up and walked towards the kitchen, realizing half way that I was completely naked. I stop right in the middle of the aisle and looked back but then I realized how silly it was to be ashamed or something. After all, we had being having sex for a while and we had slept together for the first time. Being embarrassed didn’t make any sense. So I headed to my kitchen, a tiny space with a bar, which worked as my dinner table. The place was more like a hotel room than like an actual apartment.

 I took out a lemon juice from the refrigerator and poured some in a glass. I was about to pour some for him but then realized I had no idea if he liked lemon juice at all. For a minute, I was all confused and had no idea what to do, as if the concept of lemon juice would destroy anything that we had built up to that point. But then, the answer came by itself: he had come out of the bathroom and saw me with the bottle in my hand. He just grabbed the glass I had poured for myself and drank all of its content in a heartbeat.

 I was frozen in time for a moment but then I just poured some more in another glass and drank that, much slower. He said he was very thirsty and also very hungry.  He didn’t want to impose but he proposed to cook breakfast with me in order to make something faster. I agreed and we decided on something rather easy: eggs, sausage and toast. It was a protein filled breakfast and it would certainly satisfy our hunger. We could have pretended to only want granola or fruit but the truth was we were very hungry and we needed something big and full of everything to really feel good.

  We started cooking right away and breakfast was done in no time. We didn’t bothered to make it look good or anything, we just sat down naked and ate everything on the plate like a couple of vacuum cleaners. We didn’t even talked or looked at each other during that time. We just ate and filled our empty stomachs with something more than tequila. Once the plates were almost as cleaned as before we had served the food, we did stare at each other and shared a smile that seemed to be much more than that.

 I then decided to, again, follow what everything inside me was telling me to do. I stood up, grabbed his hand and took him back to my bed. We got it again and just started kissing and touching each other. However, it was not as sexual as all other times we had that exactly that in the middle of the night. For once, doing it in the daytime seemed bold and amazing, much different that the secrecy and forbidden pleasure behind the nocturnal shadows. It was something much different, in a good way.

 We did that for a long while and then just stopped, hugging each other tight. Through my head passed several different things to say or ask or do. But I couldn’t decide on any so I just stayed still, wrapping my arms around him. I did think about us, about the nature of our relationship. We had been “fuckbuddies” for a while now and that was okay but now something felt different and I couldn’t really just ignore it. It had to be addressed and talked about but I had no idea if that was the time and the place.

 It was him, again, who talked first and proved to have more guts than me. He asked me if this meant our relationship had changed. And I just asked what he thought of the nature of our relationship. He looked at me, with those beautiful eyes, and said that he had always felt something for me, from the very beginning. He confessed he had never done many of the things he had done with me with anyone else, including staying at their place on a Sunday. I smiled and just caressed his face gently.

 We stayed there in silence for a while and then we decided it was best to shower and do something that day. So we got in the bathroom together and also into the water. It was nice and warm and it felt just perfect. So I decided to tell him I really liked him to because he was nice and beautiful and so much more.

 We then kissed again, more passionately than ever and made love under the water. It felt very different, very good. And I could tell he felt exactly the same way. Something had changed that day and it was something better than I had ever expected. Finally, after so much wondering and time, I was in love.

Lemonade

   Every single person that knew me wondered why I had chosen such a name for my dog. I always told them I didn’t really choose the name. Instead, he had been the one to choose it. I remember very well. I had been walking for a long time and was really hungry but didn’t know my surroundings at all. I had been living in that city for almost a year but the part of town I was in was not very well known to me. To be honest, it wasn’t one of those popular tourist destinations. It was one of those places people go very randomly or that locals know but no one else. I considered myself more of a local back then.

 I was lost and hungry and started to wander the streets trying to look for anything in order to calm my stomach. I found a closed supermarket and a closed restaurant and then I realized I had become lost in the worst day possible for the place I was in: Sunday. Nothing opened on Sunday, nothing at all. Maybe a couple of little supermarkets down in the tourist area but in that neighborhood I had so stupidly stepped in, there was nothing at all on such a day.

 How did I forget that? I have no idea. But the truth was I grew more and more desperate as the minutes passed. To make things worse, the clouds in the sky were staring to move and the sun, shiny and big as it looked, started to shine strongly above me. The temperature rose steadily until I had to walk back to a park I had seen before in order to sit down on a park bench beneath a tree, where I could at least try to make a plan or think of something to do in that case.

 It was then when I met him. He just came up to me out of nowhere and I swear I never saw anyone around us in that moment. He was a very short dog, the kind that had a lot of fur and tiny legs and paws and also a very small head. His fur was a combination of orange and white and I could easily notice he hadn’t been bathed in quite a while. He just sidled up to me and sat on the floor, also avoiding the sunlight.

 At first, I didn’t much for him. He was just a dog in a park, nothing too uncommon up to that point. It was when I stood up and walked to were I thought I had seen a metro station when things got really interesting. I did find the station and, luckily, I had one last trip in my metro card. It would help me go back home and eat around there or something.

 It wasn’t until I was inside the train and sat down (not many people on Sunday), that I noticed the dog had followed me and sat just below the seats in front of me, as a way for me to notice him. I realized that from the first moment I saw him there, putting his small him on his paws, waiting for the train to arrive to its destination. 

 After thirty minutes, I was back where I knew where everything was and where I could trust I could find some nice food. I was so eager to eat that, again, I forgot about the dog. I climbed the stairs to the street as fast as I could and started looking around me as if I was hunting some rare type of animal.

 Sure enough, I found a place were they did a very attractive fried chicken with French fries. It was perfect for my hunger, as my belly growled more and more loudly. Even people around me in the train could hear it complain. It was very embarrassing and I didn’t acknowledge any of it, instead playing the “I have no idea what’s happening” card.  I sat on a table in front of the restaurant and asked for a lemonade to have with my beverage, as I was really thirsty too.

 As I waited for my chicken, I noticed that part of town was as dead as the rest of it. There were a couple of business open but the amount of people in them was very sad. People were apparently very tied to their traditions and refused to change them for nothing, even if it could benefit them somehow. I could never get used to that as those are not my traditions but I think it’s interesting how people are sometimes. They keep amazing me.

 The other creature that amazed me was that damn dog from the park. As I was wondering about people of that city, I noticed something was under the other chair by the table. As I looked down, I saw it lying down exactly as I had done in the train. Just then, the waiter came with my lemonade and my lunch/dinner. I was so hungry I forgot about the dog in two seconds, digging in mercilessly.

 When I was halfway through my meal, I realized the dog had crawled out of under the chair and had decided to sit down by me watching me eat. Clearly it was the sign that meant, “Feed me”. At first, I really thought I wouldn’t give him a single piece of chicken. Not only because I was very hungry but also because the dog’s insistence on following me was very bothering. Besides, there was also the fact that I had no idea who the owner of the animal was and if it was a good thing for me to give him some chicken.

 Finally, I decided to give him a little piece of chicken. I threw it just in front of him but, to my surprise, that damn dog didn’t seem to care for chicken. I did the same thing with half a French fry and nothing; he just didn’t seem to care about any of it. Then why was he following me and staring at me as I ate? What the hell was wrong with him?

 Suddenly, the creature did something I wasn’t expected and that confused me even further: it got up on its to back legs and put the other two on my thigh, looking at me with his small black eyes. I was absolutely confused. He was begging or apparently that was the case but I had already given him food and he didn’t care for that. So what did he want it?

 I decided to keep eating my meal. I would finish it and just go home. I had no time or desire to be guessing a dog’s needs or wishes. I had never really had a pet at home, except the rabbit that had died five days after my father had brought it for my sibling and me. Besides that, my relationship with animals had been very rare. Maybe when I visited my friends who had dogs or cats, that was really my only interaction with other species. Besides that, nothing.

 The dog did the thigh thing a couple times more but I didn’t even acknowledge it. I finished the chicken, which was delicious, and ate the last couple of fries with some mustard, which was my favorite. I called the waiter in order to ask for the check and I just exhaled in a very content manner as I had fulfilled my wish for the afternoon. Thankfully, the sun was beginning to be covered by clouds again so I did not have to worry about sweating all the way home.

 When I reached for my glass of lemonade to finish it, the dog went crazy. Not inly he touched my thigh again, he started jumping up and down as if he was doing some kind of show. I took a look around me and realized there was no one else watching besides me, no one to testify to how crazy that damn dog was.

 It took me a while to realize that the key to his response had been the lemonade. So, feeling curious, I poured some of it in small saucer that the waiter had left on the next table and just put it in front of the dog. Sure enough, the little creature drank the lemonade in a couple of seconds. I was so entertained by watching him drink such a thing, that I poured twice more, give him the last of my beverage.

After I paid, I thought the dog would stay there but, for some reason, he kept following me.  I had no idea why I did it but I let it happen. I didn’t try to scare him of or anything and when we got to my building, I let him pass inside.

 He has been living with me for a year now. His name is Lemonade. And I have to say he’s one funny dog. Not only because of how I met him but because he seems to know things I haven’t even realized yet. Somehow, he’s more human than you, me and all others.

On the rubble

   At first, the sounds were like thunder. Once and again they repeated themselves, a little bit louder each minute that passed. People were hiding in their basements or in any other structures below ground but were still very close to the bombs. They normally fell for hours, at least two, and then they would stop for another two hours until they came back. It was particularly awful at night, because people had no electricity and they feared something worse could happen in the dark, even worse that a foreign force dropping bombs on their heads. They just stayed there and prayed, if they believed in something. If they didn’t, it was a lot harder to imagine a way to go back outside alive.

 Every single person, even children, now knew that the world had been crumbling down for at least fifty years but no one had really noticed. That was until, all of a sudden, the most powerful country in the powerful got very extremist and started killing their own. People around the world saw it happening and they couldn’t believe their eyes. But as many times before, they did nothing, as they were scared they would get a blockade or some sort of attack just because they wanted to defend the lives of so many that had been massacred. And what the TV showed was only the tip of a very bloody iceberg. If people had known, they wouldn’t have feared, they would have done something. But that didn’t happen and it was only two years after that that the war starter. Ironically, it had nothing to do with mass murders but with a fishing boat.

 Since that happened, the world had seen five awful years of fire, misery and death. People talked about safe havens around the world but they all sounded so perfect, so ideal, that the general population thought they were only a fantasy created by those who didn’t want to realize what their reality was. They were prisoners in their own country, having to eat whatever they could find and surviving as animals, as rats. Some escaped to the countryside but things were supposed to be worst there because of the open spaces and the use of more horrible weapons that one could ever imagine.  The country was dead.

 Besides, they had been cut off from the rest of the world, so heading to the borders was useless as they were all under surveillance. And the truth was that even beyond those fences, life was exactly the same. So why bother in running, escaping and hurting the shitty body one had only to be in a place where things were exactly the same or maybe worst? People survived and they openly welcomed death, but on their terms. No one died of old age anymore but it was the objective of many to die that way. Most people died in the streets, with a shot to the head and probably not even fired by enemies but by other hungry people.

 Rumors were always heard. People had begun a rumor, maybe based on the truth, that a group of rebels had been working before the invasion had happened. You see, before the country was attacked daily, there used to be what people call a “puppet government”. A crazy military man, as they all are, had formed an alliance with the extremist nation that attacked them. He sold the country to them in exchange of letting him live and rule. And they did let him do that but only for some years until he was killed and the occupation really began. It was during that time that several “terrorist” attacks took place. It was them, the rebels.

 But now, it seems, the rebels didn’t existed anymore. Apparently, the government killed them all and then the government itself was killed so nothing remained from the past. News came every so often, from people that had managed to salvage radios or television sets. They said they had heard other countries been taken or an uprising somewhere very far. But even if all those things were true, people knew that they weren’t enough. Those things were happening so far away that they would never get any help. They just knew how their lives would end and they didn’t want to do anything about it. Why change what is inevitable? They just waited for the end and that was it. No more believing in miracles, or in any fantasy about rebels and war on the other side of the world. They were dead and that was the only truth.

 People survived eating small rodents that they found among the rubble after the airplanes had stopped bombing. There was no building standing and it made no sense for them to keep bombing them but they did it anyway. Some people believed that they didn’t want to use real soldiers in order to keep in line people that were already scared and enslaved, in a way. Another rumor was that soon they would come and build factories and that all those people in the basements would be made to work there, making uniforms, guns, helmets and so on. It was the normal thing to do by any foreign oppressive power, or so said the elderly. But no one knew and no one cared enough to think about it.

 A person’s day consisted of hearing the bombing all day, trying to sleep at least two hours and then go out of the hiding place in order to find food. That was it. There was no entertainment or time to be happy or joyful. Those things had died with the war. Any kid who laughed was severely spanked by their mother and learned, the hard way, that there was nothing to be happy about in this world. Some people moved around the city, trying to get more food and it sometimes worked. Some of the ponds and lakes still held water and some fish so it was only a question of how to get them. That would have been a nice way to spend an evening but these people saw it as a way to survive so there was nothing nice or good about it. It was just something they had to do.

 Suddenly, one day the bombing stopped altogether. It was not that they had decided to do less bombings; it was that they just stopped. People were scared then, more than ever. The invasion, the full scale one that they had feared for so long, was finally at their doorstep. Mothers decided to teach their children how to be obedient and how to lower their head before the foreigners. They wanted them to live, even if they had to be submissive and enslaved. Nothing could be worse than been a human rodent. They waited, and waited, and waited, but the invasion never came. They never saw a single soldier come their way but that didn’t make them calm down. Maybe they had decided to test a new weapon on them… Maybe they were going to be destroyed for good.

 But that never happened. A year after the bombings stopped, when the grass started to grow again, as the trees and crops, a battalion arrived to the ruined capital city. People were scared and ran away but they soon noticed those soldiers weren’t wearing the flag used by the extremists. They were wearing a white patch only which many remembered as a sign of peace. That week, five battalions arrived to help the people and teach them how to rebuild and feed themselves. The community was alive again and people, for the first time in many years, felt good about smiling and dreaming. The children were especially happy and their parents could finally have a calm heart.

 Many bodies were buried in huge mass graves. And it was then that they realized that their liberators were locals. Not all of them but many and they told them their story. Apparently, they were the ones called rebels back in the day and they had to flee the country before it went to shit. They said that many stayed behind but were killed. Those who remained hid in boats or planes bound for other parts of the world. Their stories were then so different and fantastic but they untied again at what they called the Big Battle. It had happened about a year ago and it had been the turning point for the war. The extremists were cut off of their resources and then their capital was taken. Their leader was hanged.

 That’s why the bombings had stopped. For all effects and purposes, the war was over. The rebels talked about the sacrifice that many had done in order to get their freedom back and that’s why now they wanted every country to stand up again and become a better version of themselves, to become something that people could look up to in the future. War had to be a thing of the past, something only mad men would think about and those mad men had to be put away, their freedom taken before they could take anyone else’s.

 The world had died but then, it’s heart started beating again. Will there be another chance? Will we survive again to our own demons and stupidity? Let’s hope this time it sticks.